


Of Knights and Dragons

by Sleepy_Grandma_Phyllis



Category: Fire Emblem, Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Angst, Cheese, Cross-Posted on Tumblr, Drama, F/M, Feelings, Fire Emblem - Freeform, Fire Emblem Fates - Freeform, Fire Emblem Fates Revelations - Freeform, Fire emblem fates conquest, Fluff, Gunter - Freeform, Headcanon, Intimacy, Love, M/M, Nohr | Conquest Route, Of knights and dragons, Original Character(s), Originally Posted on Tumblr, Princess - Freeform, Relationship(s), Romance, Some Violence in later chapters, am i doing this right, corrin - Freeform, dragon - Freeform, inner conflict, so much goddamn cheese, some nsfw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-23
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-16 01:53:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,665
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16075883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sleepy_Grandma_Phyllis/pseuds/Sleepy_Grandma_Phyllis
Summary: Amidst the chaos and tragedy of war, a Nohrian Princess and her Loyal guard fight fiercely to see peace returned to their country; Learning along the way, that they share the same hidden feelings... and dark secrets.Of Knights and Dragons is an anthology of milestones regarding the development of a relationship between F!Corrin and Gunter. Taking place in a timeline that draws content from both Conquest and Revelations - headcanon is used to fill out backstories and provide some insight in plot points left rather bare in the canonical story.I realize I am incredibly late to the Fire Emblem Fates: party, but I truly hope you enjoy it!*This work is active and will extend to roughly 13 chapters





	1. Disobedience

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually the first fanfiction I have ever shared on the internet! It has been a great labor of love and if even one person comes to enjoy this story of mine; I will have accomplished what I hoped to do!
> 
> *Note that Corrin is 24 in this anthology, her appearance deviates from canon Corrin.

The sun glared over the western horizon casting a bronze light across the courtyard of Castle Krakenberg. Large clouds filled the skyscape with the lingering possibility of rain. The sound of clashing metal and grunts of exertion filled the humid summer air. Xander, the distinguished prince of Nohr, the eldest of the royal children, found himself panting in a fiery duel with Princess Corrin. He seemed to have underestimated the young woman, as she gracefully evaded each of his forceful attacks. Her movements seemed effortless, absolutely nothing like the young girl Xander remembered.

Any doubt he had of her competence as a Knight had been dismissed. Since Corrin had been thrown into the midst of this tragic war, she had evolved from a young, inexperienced, princess confined to the cold walls of a lonely tower into a ferocious Knight Commander. She had practiced the blade for nearly two decades, but even the most skilled opponent in a controlled training environment held no comparison to violent adversaries on an unpredictable battlefield. By now, however, she was well versed in engaging the latter.

The person that stood before Xander was no longer just a young princess, no longer his naive little sister, but a bold, fearless woman whose swordsmanship skill was quickly coming to surpass his own.

“Do you yield?” Corrin smiled, wiping the sweat from her brow. Standing proud, sword ready.

“Oh, now you’re just getting arrogant.” Xander grinned as he collected himself, readying his stance. He loved his younger sister, but by no means would he go easy on her. He was, after all, the future king of Nohr. His royal pride could simply not endure defeat to the Princess.

He lifted his blade towards the tall, raven-haired woman, welcoming her to make the first move. Just as Corrin took a step forward however, a third party emerged from beneath the overhang outlining the training grounds.

“Your majesty,” a distinguished, familiar voice addressed the prince, “Lady Camilla has returned from the summit, she brings news.” Gunter stood at attention, his royal armor shining in the warm glow of the sun.

“Camilla?” Xander sheathed his sword, directing his attention to the renowned Knight.

“She has requested your presence with the war council immediately.”

“Of course,” The prince swept back his tousled blonde hair, “Thank you, Gunter.”

Before departing, Xander looked over to Corrin with a smirk, “This is not over.”

“Be sure to thank Camilla for saving you from inevitable defeat.” Corrin jarred as Xander dismissively shook his head and walked away. Corrin brushed away some dirt from the off-white ruffles of her dueling uniform as Gunter approached her with a proud glow about him.

“That was very impressive, Lady Corrin.” He smiled warmly, “You should be pleased with your improvement.”

“How long were you observing us, Gunter?” Corrin laughed nervously, suddenly a little self-conscious. This Knight before her was the former right hand of King Garon. To her, he was a wise, stern combat trainer but also a gentle and trusted friend. While she was confident in her performance, if she would have known that Gunter was watching… well perhaps she would have tried just a little harder.

“Oh, not long at all,” Gunter reassured, sensing her nerves, “but it seems those years of dedication and training have proven to be useful.”

“I had an excellent instructor, you know.” Corrin smiled.

“Well, I’m sure that instructor doesn’t deserve all of the credit for your hard work.”

They stood together in a moment of thoughtful silence, basking in the quiet humidity. These peaceful moments were few and far between now, Corrin cherished the stillness. Even more rare, was this moment with her dear retainer.

“Do you have some time, Gunter?”

“I always have time for you, your majesty.” Gunter nodded respectfully. They both knew that wasn’t true, but the sentiment was appreciated. Pulled in different directions due to the turbulence of war – they saw one another maybe a few times each week between operations.

“Fancy a game of catch?” Corrin grinned, referring to the small leather ball they used to toss back and forth when she was younger. Her request earned a small, amused chuckle from Knight. They had played a few times before when Gunter revealed he had kept the small memento, even after all these years. There was something that felt a little self-indulgent about tossing a ball around amidst the tragic times of war, but the sentiment of the game was soothing.

Gunter removed the ball from a little pouch attached at his belt, concealed by the hilt of his blade. He rolled it around in the palm, feeling it in his hand. It brought him back to simpler times, before the war. Corrin was deeply touched to see he kept the trinket on his person.

“You’re not needed elsewhere?” Gunter asked with uncertainty, he knew she was needed by so many different people for so many different reasons these days. He felt it would be negligent to steal her precious time away for something as simple as a game of catch.

“No,” the princess shook her head, “I would like to be present when Camilla discusses the events of the summit but…”

“King Garon.” Gunter said plainly. The King was a cold, vindictive man. He harbored a great deal of obvious hatred for Princess Corrin, and she learned at a young age that it was best to avoid his wraith entirely unless directly summoned. Despite her role amidst her troops on the battlefield, her authority held no meaning within the walls of Krakenberg. Gunter’s expression was stale – he could offer no help in this matter beyond supporting her as a retainer. No one, not even the crown prince, dare disobey the King of Nohr.

“On the bright side, I have the opportunity to spend time with you.” She softly broke the tension with her typical refreshing optimism. She opened her hands to Gunter, beckoning him to throw the ball.

He smiled, gently tossing the ball in Corrin’s direction, an easy throw for an easy catch. He felt happy… but conflicted. He couldn’t help but feel a little ashamed of himself; he would never admit that as proud as he was to see her blossom into an incredible commander, he missed the humbler days, where he played a more important role in her life. He was not a selfish or jealous man, the war took absolute precedence, but he could only wish to provide more support for Corrin. Even as her retainer for the last few years, the war had separated them far more than he would prefer.

“I’m already warmed up,” the princess threw the ball back in a high, fast arch, “so don’t go easy on me!”

Gunther was just able to catch the ball, having to fully extend his arms.

“My, my…” Gunter smirked, composing himself after the catch, “I suppose you are.”

Drawing his foot back and winding up his arm with a knowing smile, Gunter delivered a much more difficult toss, causing Corrin to jerk back and fumble her footing to successfully make the catch.

“That’s more like it!” Corrin beamed proudly displaying the ball in her hand. “Say…” the young woman mused, eyeing the ball inquisitively, “Do you remember that bargain we had? All of those years ago?”

“Yes, how could I forget?” Gunter smiled, crossing his arms, “How else was I supposed to get you to train or study when you refused to do so?”

“It’s settled,” Corrin nodded, “Whoever misses a catch must do as the other instructs.”

Gunter watched her curiously, what did she have in mind? After several passes, dark clouds above the castle courtyard rolled over the skyscape, muting the remaining sunlight, and casting a blanket of grey over the muggy atmosphere.

“A shame the weather seems to want to put an end to our game.” Gunter grimaced, taking notice of the sky.

“Why? Are you worried a little rain might make things difficult for you?” Corrin grinned throwing the ball back fast, distracted by the sky, Gunter nearly missed his catch!

“Ah! Thought I wasn’t paying attention!” The Knight shook the small globe at her, satisfied with himself. The first drops of rain formed on the dusty ground around them. “Clever girl.” Gunter faked a throw causing Corrin to jump, and when he quickly threw the ball in the other direction, the princess had to dive to the ground, her figure audibly scraping across the gravel beneath her.

“Princess!” Gunter stepped forward with concern and an outstretched hand, he hadn’t expected her to take the dive, he had assumed she would miss the ball and he could end the game.

Laughing, Corrin rolled onto her side, triumphantly displaying the ball in the palm of her hand. Gunter chuckled, watching her stand and brush away some of the grime from her clothes, but his smile soon faded when he could see the little red abrasions form on her arms from the sharp, tiny rocks below. He should not have made such a throw, he didn’t intend to hurt her. Yes, Corrin was competitive, but it was unusual for her to play so aggressively. Gunter observed her carefully as the rain fell harder and heavier between them.

The Great Knight was properly protected from the heavy rainfall in his royal armor, but the princess was soaked to the bone. Her entire uniform now tinged red and brown as a result of her competitive fervor. Gunter appreciated this time spent with Corrin and normally, he wished to make these moments last as long as he could; but seeing her like this urged him to put an end to their game.

“Just a few more rounds?” Corrin asked with pleading eyes, her voice calling out above the rain.

“One more.” Gunther nodded, palms open for a final catch.

Corrin grinned, lifting the ball high above her head. In a swift movement, she arched back and forcefully launched the ball forward. Shielding his eyes with his hand, Gunter squinted through the heavy wall of rain, eyes darting between the drops searching for the ball. He stepped quickly in the direction of the throw only to realize Corrin stood before him with a knowing smile, the ball still in her hand. She lazily tossed in the direction opposite of her misled opponent and smugly folded her arms over her chest as Gunter scrambled after the leather orb just beyond his fingertips.

Shaking his head, Gunter walked over to the ball, picking it up from the ground, squeezing it in his hand and shaking it at Corrin with a smile. “A dirty move to play on an old man!”

The two shared a duet of laughter as they walked to meet one another at the center of the courtyard. The rainfall was so substantial now that it heavily obscured the world around them. Although they were in plain sight in the open courtyard, they might as well have been completely hidden.

“I’m just keeping you on your toes.” The delighted princess smiled at Gunter as they met, she looked cold and uncomfortable but was obviously too proud to show it.

“Lady Corrin… let’s get you out of the rain before you catch a cold.” Gunter gently placed an armored hand over her trembling shoulder.

“Excuse me, Great Knight, but did you miss that last catch? Or did I just imagine it?”

Gunter chuckled shaking his head once more, fruitlessly wiping streams of rain away from his face, “I am a man of my word, your Majesty, I will do what you ask of me.”

Corrin stared at him thoughtfully, a fragile smile on her damp, quivering lips. Her face burned as she bashfully looked away for just a moment, but she immediately gathered the strength to regain her composure. No, she certainly would not forfeit this opportunity, not this time. Her eyes burned into his core as she drew closer to the Knight.

“ _Kiss me, Gunter_.”

Stunned, Gunter’s brow furrowed as he nervously looked around, the curtain of rain around them blurred anything beyond four or five inches. Even still, he felt raw, vulnerable, and paranoid. A ball caught in his throat and his ears rang, whatever hypothetical requests he could have anticipated of Corrin… this was not one of them.

“Your majesty, did… did I hear you correctly? I…” Flustered, stammering, baffled. Gunter found himself absolutely dumbfounded. His nerves were on fire, surely this was an inappropriate jest that Corrin would call off at any moment. It was very rare that Gunter felt this overwhelmed, even in all his years of life.

“You’re not going to break the sanctity of your promise now, are you, Gunter?” Corrin slowly drew ever closer to him. She placed one of her hands flat against his plated chest the other reached out towards his cheek.

“Well?”

Gunter felt the world slow to a halt, everything faded into a blur around him, everything but the beautiful woman before him. The princess with her longing eyes and trembling parted lips. Even the bellowing rain was silenced by the sound of his heartbeat that now overwhelmed his ears. His chest tightened as he lifted a hand to meet Corrin’s face. He would be lying to himself if he said he never harbored strong feelings for Corrin, but not even for a moment did he _ever_ think to entertain such thoughts. His thumb tenderly traced her jaw as the war in his mind raged on.

He knew Corrin. Perhaps better than any of her siblings. He had been a trusted authority figure to her, her trainer. While she had clearly grown into a brilliant leader, an adult that hadn’t needed his guidance for quite some time, Gunter remained deeply conflicted. The Knight’s unspoken feelings for the Princess evolved as rapidly she did. He hadn’t anticipated feeling anything more than a static, if powerful, platonic concern for her. More so, he _never_ allowed himself the indulgence of picturing the opportunity of what they could be after what they had already been. _To think? To act?_ On anything beyond that? He firmly dismissed the lot of it. He felt to do otherwise would be irresponsible or worse, predatory.

And yet… here she was. He clearly saw his own feelings reflected in her yearning eyes.

“ _Please_ …”

And with that simple, tender plea, Gunter buckled. Desire reigned as the victor over his temperance and self-discipline as he lowered his face to meet the Princess. Slowly and gently, their lips pressed. Lingering, drinking in of one another, Corrin’s hands found their way to the sides of Gunter’s neck. The kiss ignited something within the two of them; a powerful culmination of unspoken longing. They parted briefly to share a breath of air and locked gazes.

This kiss, between a noble and her retainer… This was a raw act of disobedience. A rebellion against aristocratic etiquette; a violation of the uncompromising personal conduct Gunter prided himself upon and held himself accountable to. And it felt _right. Organic._

He brushed wet hair back from Corrin’s cheeks captivated by her. In return she eagerly claimed his face in her hands, pulling him down to her, their mouths colliding. Gunter matched each of her feverish kisses with equal passion. His bulky arms surrounded her, binding Corrin to himself. They swayed in the rain gripping one another, two thirsting lovers brought, at last, to water. Their desperate lips clashed again and again until Gunter finally pulled away gasping.

“ _This is_ …” Gunter held Corrin’s face in his hands, breathing hard he affectionately reveled in the features of her lovely face. Melting in his hands, Corrin admired him with an enchanted gaze. Sighing, she readily anticipated a romantic confession or a melody of sweet nothings… but the expression of desire and tenderness on Gunther’s face slowly faded. Something had changed.

“Wrong.” Gunter grimaced, looking away as his hands fell flat to his sides. “I am so sorry…” He shook his head mournfully. Overwhelmed with shame and guilt, he took several steps away from the dazed princess. “ _I can’t…_ ”

Without another word he left her.

Corrin was overcome with heaviness watching him fade into the curtain of rainfall. Her drenched clothes suddenly felt like weights dragging down her trembling body. She wanted to pursue him, but she simply couldn’t muster the strength. Wrapping her arms around herself in self-consoling embrace, she wept softly. Immobilized.

_What have I done?_


	2. Compromise

_Perfection._ The delicate porcelain was truly a sight to behold, a picturesque display of colorful, dainty pastries upon pastel china. Accompanied by the fragrant floral aroma of lavender tea gently emitting from the plump kettle in the center of the silver serving tray. Sparkling silverware thoughtfully arranged to gently rest on top of elegant doilies accented with carefully sprinkled lavender buds. Simply beautiful.

_“Jakob you have absolutely outdone yourself.”_ The handsome young butler mused to himself after finally creating an ensemble that properly captured the masterpiece he envisioned. It was not that his other his other creations weren’t magnificent, no, Jakob knew everything he poured himself into never fell short of phenomenal. However, this arrangement needed to be particularly perfect.

Jakob served the fair Nohrian Princess, Lady Corrin, for the vast majority of his life. He committed each of her preferences, habits, and routines to memory. As Corrin’s personal manservant, tending to her needs, down to the most minute detail, was expected of him. A requirement he prided himself in. Consequently, Jakob was the first to notice that something was wrong.

The change was subtle, it always was. Corrin had a habit of masking her troubles, locking her grief within herself and presenting her outward image with a smile. She was a compassionate liege and she treated her retainers as friends, as equals. She valued them. She felt their service to her, to Nohrian royalty, was demanding enough without her piling her personal burdens upon them.

Yet Jakob could see right through her polite facade. He saw the quiver in the small corners of her faltering smile, the absent laughter she offered to others in well-intentioned courtesy, felt the vacancy within her distant stare as her focus floated off to a distant place. He initially assumed it was due to the ongoing war. The war had taken a toll on everyone. This melancholy was different. It stalked his sweet-tempered master like a shadow and lingered as an uninvited guest. What Jakob found so strange about Corrin’s apparent distress was how sudden it was.

Try as he may to pinpoint a particular event or interaction that may have caused this degradation in her happiness, and _oh did he try,_ he simply couldn’t place it. There was no evidence to be found in his examinations of the troops and nobility alike. No fruitful information spreading through the grapevine of the castle or mobile infantry camps. It was so frustrating for Jakob to watch Corrin interact with others so compassionately,all the while her own aching so invisible to all of them. Dare he bring up the matter with his liege directly, it was always the same: _I am perfectly fine, Jakob. Truly._

Composing himself and collecting the shining tray in his hands with his typical impeccable posture, Jakob hummed happily to himself as he turned to leave the servants quarters. He shared in her distress in his own way; Corrin was, quite literally, his world. An extension of himself, his reason for facing each day with a sense of purpose. Watching her held captive by this concealed grief, unable to relieve her of it... Jakob felt helpless. He lovingly observed the precious display in his hands and felt reassurance. He may not be capable of easing the sadness that haunted his esteemed Lady, as much as it pained him, but he would do everything within his power to bring her a little happiness.

Corrin hadn’t been sleeping well lately. She stood before the vanity mirror in her simple lounging clothes, examining the dark, puffy crescents laying below her tired eyes. Her short, dark hair was tousled, lazily held back by a lone black band. For a Nohrian princess, she certainly didn’t look the part. A basic white blouse with a single waterfall of ruffles pouring down from the throat, baggy sleeves shoved up to the elbows, all tucked into high-waisted brown trousers. Oh her siblings would keel over seeing her in this state. Nohrian royalty and their fascination with exuberant presentation. With all of the traveling she had been doing, she didn’t have much for extravagant outfits. With her armor in with the smithy for reinforcement, and her torn dueling attire being repaired in the hands of Flora… _oh that was fun to try to explain,_ this attire was all she had just short of her nightgown.

She looked much older, hell, she felt much older than she was these days. The strain of this violent war had added half a decade onto all of the lives it affected. Suffocating in that isolated tower all of her childhood and most of her adolescent years, Corrin remembered aching for a taste of freedom. She would stare out from the high barred windows of her bedroom and dream of getting lost in golden wheat fields, traversing opalescent mountains, and experiencing the salty bite of the sea. Yet when the time came and she was finally released from that dark cage, she was greeted with only injustice, destruction, and war.

Ever the optimist, she found reasons to persevere. The people she served alongside brought her such happiness and hope. So many colorful personalities, each with their own compelling stories and experiences. She was always eager to listen, alway willing to extend a helping hand. Anything to nurture what hope remained in the grave reality they endured.

However important each unit was to her, she especially revered her retainers. Those vigilant few who were always there for her. Even beneath the tyrannical rule of King Garon, these servants always found methods within their stations to make her feel less alone. That loneliness was something she knew very intimately, it was nearly as much a part of her as her skin or her eye color. Had it not been for Jakob, Felicia, Flora, and… _and…_

Corrin’s exhausted eyes fell to the small scabs that dotted her forearms and she felt an intense wave of embarrassment weigh her down. The sour burn of anxiety had taken up residency in the pit of her stomach since that damned stint in the courtyard nearly a week ago. While most of the abrasions had healed up nicely, the tenderness of her skin served as a nagging reminder of her foolishness. Her selfish behavior had compromised the relationship she held most dear to her heart. She had only seen Gunter once since that evening, he was running a group of troops through a series of demanding drills one early morning. He seemed unchanged, and that bothered her. Commanding in his classical stern, unfeeling way. He didn’t seem to notice her that day and even if he did, he showed no indication. Despite her hurt, Corrin felt that it was for the best. For the first time she was grateful for the chaotic state of the kingdom that drove the two in opposite directions.

Still, Corrin stepped away from the vanity and leaned against her regal oak bedpost with a heavy heart. It was agony to always have him just beyond her fingertips, but that pain was nothing compared to the anguish of his indifferent absence. Driven by her fantasies, she had taken a risk and reached for him. She reached out and finally made contact, but she was reckless and so she fell. In her carelessness she shattered something so fragile, cutting herself on the shards on the way down. 

Hot, fat tears formed in the corners of her eyes, a physical response she often denied herself for fear of weakness. She let them fall freely, warm wet streaks forging their way down her pale cheeks. Her tears were generous and plentiful, perhaps the result of her futile attempts to banish and conceal her misery deep down in the depths of her core. It was all spilling over now, pouring out of her seams. Saturated in her raw emotion, she was oblivious to the gentle footsteps approaching her.

_“My Lady...”_

Corrin shrank into herself, her eyes timidly seeking a path to the source of the tender voice. How could she let someone find her in such a state? Wiping her eyes she squinted at the figure before her. She did not immediately recognize the man outside of his signature armor.

“I would have knocked, but…”

Gunter stood before her, his kind eyes shining with concern. It was simply uncanny to see him in something other than his battle dress or combat fatigues. Instead, he was adorned in embellished uniform quite similar to that of any other castle servant. He exuded an approachable warmth in this humble, unobstructed form. He was a tall man with broad shoulders and he sacrificed none of his bulk in the absence of chainmail or armor. He looked so refined, so handsome.

“What are you doing here?” Corrin squawked at him, the words expelled from her mouth faster than she could process them and her broken voice led her to sound much more abrasive than intended, but the Knight before her was unphased.

“I have taken time to reflect and have decided we need to talk.” He spoke slowly and softly, the way he always did when she required his reassurance. He caught Corrin in a turbulent whirlwind of feeling. Before she could rationalize any mindful, appropriate reaction - she was overcome with irrational anger.

“I want you to leave.” An unconvincing lie, they both knew that. She couldn’t counteract the combustion of conflicting energies in her head, more tears fell from her eyes.

“Your majesty… I-” Gunter attempted to draw closer to her, offering his hands to her.

“Just _go_!” Corrin lashed against him, pushing him away. “Leave me, Goddammit!”

Gunter didn’t so much as flinch in the wake of her outburst.

“ _Corrin._ ” His voice was calm but firm as he stripped away the formal titles and addressed the young woman directly, cutting into her. He gently lifted her face and held it in his hands, collecting tears with his fingers.

She was shaking in his palms, her breathing fast and erratic. She couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eyes. He hushed her softly and drew her into his arms; her face pressed against the base of his neck. Corrin was in a state of shock in the wake of this otherworldly interaction. For even in his softest moments, this sort of physical tenderness was uncharacteristic of the brutal veteran Knight she thought she knew. It was effective though, as in a mere matter of seconds, Corrin remembered herself. Her breathing became slow and intentional. She could feel her heartbeat slow from its thunderous tyraid.

“ _Damn you..._ ” Her quiet, fractured voice was muffled in the creases of the finely tailored vest adorning his sturdy frame. For the first time she could really feel him. Not the cold, rigid metal that always separated him from the rest of the world. _Him._ His body was warm, and when he moved back Corrin didn’t want to let go. Her reluctance was obvious as they parted.

“I need you to understand something.” Gunter spoke plainly, but there was a degree of reassurance in his voice that differentiated this tone from his typical apathetic way of speaking.

“Corrin. I care for you. I care so _deeply_ for you.” He lifted a hand to her cheek, coarse from years of labor and battle. It felt pleasant against the softness of her face.

“Then why did you leave?” Corrin asked. She knew the answer. She wasn’t sure if she truly wanted to hear what Gunter had to say next.

Despite her efforts, she couldn’t stop herself from admiring him as he internally mulled over his response. His face was a marvel to the Nohrian Princess; always finding something new to appreciate each time she looked at him. His features were strong and mature, a wide-set jaw with high, gaunt cheeks, and a sharp nose. A narrow scar ran in a diagonal cut across his face, splitting through the center of his left eyebrow, over the bridge of his nose, and down to the corner of his lips. Fine lines decorated his face a representation of his hard life in Nohrian servitude. There was a raw, masculine energy about him that few men possessed.

He watched her as her gaze fixed on to his lips he shifted with discomfort. He couldn’t allow his resolve to diminish any further, it was already compromised the moment her held Corrin in his arms. Biting at the line of his lower lip, Gunter finally spoke.

“These are uncertain times, Corrin. This war is barbaric and unforgiving.” He turned from her to face the towering arched window overlooking the bleak countryside surrounding the castle. “Nohr demands everything we have to offer should we ever wish to see peace return to this land.”

The stoic, towering Knight seemed to shrink ever so slightly as he cast his eyes to his hands. His fingers rubbing against his palms nervously as he carefully chose his next words, “We must be entirely free of distractions. We simply cannot allow personal desires to interfere with our obligations to this kingdom. This is no time for romance” His head lowered as an unexpected flush spread across his face, “regardless of how badly we may _want it_.”

It wasn’t Gunter himself speaking these words, but the disciplined, resolute persona he had carved out for himself over the years he spent clawing his way up the ranks of the Nohrian Army. Corrin could sense frailties in his delivery of his words, a resistance to his own logic. She knew he didn’t wish to share these words any more than she wanted to receive them. It was a matter of seeking out the flaws in his defenses and breaching the impenetrable walls he had carefully built around himself.

“I disagree, Gunter.” The tears had dried on her face as she prepared herself for the assault against his resolution. “These are uncertain times, and that’s all the more reason to pursue... _this._ ” Corrin’s voice had regained its stability and she delivered each word with truth and confidence.

“Our days are unforeseeable, Gunter. If I am fated to perish in the heat of battle... I would prefer to do so having known the depths of your heart.”

Gunter was touched, but he was prepared. He came to her quarters picturing her rebuttals of youthful idealism. He came here expecting he would most likely have to leave her in heartache.

“Corrin, even if we weren’t at war…” Gunter turned to face her once more, looking into her eyes. Her gaze burned further into him than he had anticipated, but he continued on, “This could never be. As my liege, as a princess of Nohr, associating with me would bring you only shame and dishonor. Do you understand the disruption this would bring to your units? Think of your siblings… Of King Garon.”

“Gunter,” Corrin closed into him and brought her hands to the sides of his face, her thumbs affectionately tracing his cheeks. “I _don’t care_ about status or the opinions of aristocrats. What has being a noble truly meant to me? When I was locked away from the rest of the world?”

“Corrin…” He could feel his guard slowly dissolving in her gentle hands. He so desperately ached for her to talk this sense into him. He needed her to take his hand and lead him away from his internalized code of honor.

“We wouldn’t have to disrupt _anyone._ ” Her hands fell to take his, her thumbs tracing over his palms and fingers. “No one would need to know.”

Gunter swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat, he knew engaging any further in this behavior would put both of them at risk. The thought of Corrin being reprimanded and punished for engaging in something so scandalous disturbed him. In addition, if he was going to court the princess, he would want to do so properly. He would like to take this slow, showering her with the respect and adoration she deserved. Yet, he couldn't ignore the risque excitement that accompanied the flirtation of a secret affair.

“We could make this work.” She whispered to him.

He had so many questions for her. _Why? Why was she interested in him, in the presence of more youthful, appropriate suitors? When had she started to feel this way? What exactly were her feelings towards him? What did she hope to gain from this? What did this mean?_

Amidst his anxiety, he knew one thing to be true; the kiss they had shared hidden in the courtyard. That kiss stirred a very powerful, very raw passion in Gunter that he long thought was dead and buried. Whatever these feelings were, they were _real._

He decided against speaking at all and presented his submission to Corrin in the form of a soft, lingering kiss. Just as before, this harmonious connection released a humming warmth that spread throughout their bodies. Maybe this truly _could_ work. Maybe this hidden romance could give him a genuine reason to look with hope towards the future.

Instinctively, Corrin fell back onto the soft velvet of her bed, pulling Gunter down upon her. His body hovered over hers, their faces bright with a blissful smiles. He brushed her hair away and traced along her face, his thumb stopping just below her bottom lip to guide her into a deep, fulfilling kiss.

All at once thunderous crash followed by the sound of shattering glass erupted from the far side of the room.

Startled, Corrin shot her face towards the open doorway of her quarters. There stood a traumatized Jakob, his mouth agape in shock. He didn’t so much as glance at the mess of porcelain shards and broken pastries strewn about the bedroom floor in a soggy, steaming heap. Some sort of indistinguishable cry of despair expelled from the back of the butler’s throat before he recklessly escaped the scene.

Gunter groaned, his face in his hands as he rolled over from Corrin. The two laid side by side in an uncomfortable silence. Both staring at the ceiling unable to find words that would, in any way, make this situation less dreadful.

_Well, shit._


	3. Reflections

The soft click of Flora’s heels resonated through the high arches of the dark, marbled corridor. She was a lovely woman, a little beyond her bloom in years, but still very well in her prime. She walked with dignity with her liege's uniform, lovingly repaired and neatly folded, in her arms. She was well on her way to deliver the carefully mended clothing to Lady Corrin’s temporary quarters, isolated in the eastern tower of the castle. She was nearly halfway to her destination when her attention was stolen by a peculiar sound whispering into the hall from an open doorway. Quietly, the maid approached the source of the sound.

Her curious expression quickly faded to one of concern. There, at the head of a long table covered in an overwhelming array of fine dinnerware, Jakob was slouched. His tired eyes cast down upon the immaculate goblet in his hands. The sound Flora observed was a soft squeaking emitting from the greased handkerchief he was mechanically wiping against the already glistening silver.

Judging by the bags beneath his eyes and the unkempt appearance of his hair, Jakob must have been at this all night… _again._ Exhaling, Flora gently set aside the clothing in her hands and carefully approached the butler. She softly placed her palm on his shoulder but Jakob didn’t acknowledge her and continued on with his fruitless polishing.

“Jakob.” Flora’s voice was kind and warm, “Why don’t you let me take care of this?”

“No.” Jakob scoffed at her, “You’ll mess it up, these need to be perfect.”

The comment hardly grazed the maid, who both surpassed Jakob in years and prowess as a servant. She understood that what the disheveled butler was really trying to say was; _leave me alone._ Flora grimaced, she knew Jakob to be an abrasive sort, it was his greatest defense mechanism. He was a sensitive young man, although he would _perish_ before ever admitting it. His caustic personality was his way of keeping everyone at arm's length. Flora knew better than to ask him what was wrong, but clearly something was.

“Jakob, you know as well as I do that any established butler must be well rested to maintain peak performance...” without giving him time to interject with a stubborn rebuttal she continued, “I know all too well that you haven’t slept.”

Jakob sighed. He was spent, both physically and emotionally. These petty distractions were all that kept his jumbled, invasive emotions at bay. It had been several days since he witnessed the owner of his heart luxuriously reclined beneath the bulk of an old, irrelevant knight that had _absolutely_ no place being in her quarters- no. If he allowed his thoughts to linger even a moment too long on what he witnessed, forceful, reactionary disgust and anger would consume him.

“You need your rest, lest your duties suffer as a consequence. You cannot hold yourself to meet proper expectations in any altered state,” Flora’s gentle words soaked into Jakob as he slowly, carefully lowered the goblet to the table before him. “and that includes sleep deprivation.”

“I still have to-” Jakob began but was immediately dismissed by the woman.

“I will see to it that your responsibilities are covered for the morning, Jakob. Please, go get some rest.” She gave her hand a sympathetic squeeze around his slumped shoulder. Hesitantly, Jakob forfeited his position to Flora, handing her the overworked handkerchief.

“ _So be it._ ” he spat with attempted nonchalance, “If you feel so inclined tarnish all of my hard work… be my guest.” He moved away slowly, unaware of how stiff and sore his body had become remaining stationary through the long hours of the night.

Flora fought off a small, knowing smile as she watched him steadily make his way away from her. He stopped himself just at the base of the doorway; he stood for a moment and lifted his weary head. He turned his face ever so slightly towards to maid, releasing words that were nearly inaudible to her.

“ _Thank you, Flora._ ” and he was gone.

The cold morning light painted the ominous castle in a pastel stillness, perhaps if the young butler hadn’t been so saturated in his self pity, he could have taken the time to admire it. He moved towards the castle gardens, where he bitterly hoped he could find some clarity before retiring to his quarters. Try as he may, no amount of meticulously polished cutlery could ever erase the sight of Corrin and Gunter from his mind. Perhaps some fresh air could offer some relief. Anything.

_How dare he-? What were they-? Why would she-?_ With a deep breath Jakob stopped himself from spiraling back into the tired, repeating flurry of outrage that he had allowed himself to steep in over the last few days. He’d run around a thousand different scenarios in his mind but each and every one brought him back to the same empty, unproductive feelings of jealousy and betrayal. Did he even have any right to feel this way? Well, of course he did! … _Didn’t he?_

Jakob slowed his pace as he came a tall, open archway leading to one of Castle Krakenburg’s finest studies. The regal room was dark and dimly lit with candles. The tall windows were covered with rich curtains to keep the sunlight from bleaching the ancient texts hiding within. Towering ornate shelves generously filled with colorful tomes and scrolls lined the entire perimeter of the room.

A small lump formed in Jakob’s throat as his eyes fell upon on of the finely embellished writing station in the far corner of the study. He approached the elaborate desk and allowed his fingers to trace over its smooth, shining finish. Beneath the decorative cloth covering its surface, If he looked very carefully, he could find the outline of subtle discoloration from an accident that happened years ago. He vividly remembered the incident, he could never forget…

At that time, It had been only a few months since Jakob had been surrendered over to Castle Krakenburg. A frightened child abandoned by his unfeeling parents to the mercy of a cruel king. The boy had begun his intensive training into the ways of Nohrian servitude and was assigned with one of his first independent tasks. It was simple enough, present and pour out tea for Iago in the study. At least, it _sounded_ simple.

Little Jakob shook in his boots as he approached the study on that rainy afternoon, the delicate china softly chittering upon the tray in his nervous hands. Iago was not a benevolent man to say the least. He was a selfish, pitiless lacky of King Garon; a gaunt, pale husk of a man. The small boy had previously witnessed the sickly mage in his fits of rage many times before. He always heeded Flora’s warning to keep out of Iago’s warpath or else risk the danger of becoming reduced to collateral damage. He repeated little prayers in his mind, hoping to find the magister in a pleasant mood… _if that were even possible._ He prayed as well that he had prepared the tea just as Iago preferred. Fittingly: bitter and potent.

Jakob cautiously looked around as he entered the study, but the towering ghoul was nowhere to be found. So slowly, the little boy proceeded, looking for a desirable spot to set his tray. _Just set the tray down and go._ He told himself, trying to calm his nerves. With little droplets of nervous sweat forming at his temples, just as he was about to set his arrangement down…

“Hi Jakob!!”

Jakob shrieked and recoiled, his tray and all of its contents launched into the air only to rain down upon a dozen open faced texts on the desk before him. There, with both of her little hands covering her mouth in shock, was princess Corrin. She had dropped a small pile of books that she seemed to be fetching for her brother, Prince Leo.

“ _Oh no, no, no!!_ Jakob, I am so sorry!!” She frantically scrambled to pick up the porcelain shards scattered about the desk and floor, but it was too late to save the tomes and scrolls displayed on the table. The dark, rich tea had already bled into the pages, spreading across the paper in vein-like streams, consuming and blurring the words and drawings in its wake.

Jakob stood there mortified, his small hands grabbing handfuls of hair on the sides of his head. Fear and embarrassment bubbled up and burned in his chest.

“I am so sorry, Princess! How stupid - I am an absolute disgrace!” Hot tears formed at the corners of his eyes and he fruitlessly tried to soak up some of the steaming tea, nearly burning his little hands.

“No, Jakob, this is my fault. I’m sorry! I was just so happy to see you, I-”

A thunderous roar split the still atmosphere of the room as an enraged Iago stormed across the study forcing his palms down upon the desk that housed his ruined academic works. His ghostly, narrow face contorted into vicious snarl. Hands shaking, he grabbed a fistful of wet paper and behind a veil of long, black hair glared at the two children before him.

“Which of you imbeciles is responsible for this mess!?” He hissed through gritted teeth.

Without realizing, Jakob had cowered behind the princess, shivering in terror. He felt very faint, as if he himself would fall to the floor and shatter like the teapot before him.

“I demand to know _now!!_ ” Iago screamed, slamming his fist down into table once more, rattling the broken glass scattered about. Jakob flinched, and Corrin touched his hand in solidarity.

Corrin boldly took a step towards Iago to draw a firm line between the deranged royal scholar and the petrified servant. Her eyes cast to the ground and her fingers entangled behind her back. Without hesitation, the young noble took ownership of the disaster.

“It was _my fault,_ Iago. I am truly sorry.”

Iago observed Corrin, an unpredicted display of bravery from a little girl. Jakob stared at the little Princess. She looked so brave, clad in her ruffled dress with her long raven hair lovingly pulled back into a fishtail braid, she might has well have been eight feet tall and adorned in shining armor.

Iago closed his eyes and inhaled deeply as he straightened himself up. A questionable smirk spread across his thin, colorless lips as his gradually moved closer to the princess less than half his size. With his hands behind his back, he bent over to meet Corrin face to face. She raised her brave little head and locked eyes with him.

“I will see to it, _little girl…_ ” Iago spoke softly, an uneasy air filled the room, “ _that King Garon locks you away for good._ ”

Jakob could see Corrin holding her breath, her twitching fingers compromising the facade of her courage. Jakob didn’t blink, watching Iago compose himself and stand up right. He turned to leave, giving the children a false sense of relief before swiftly striking the princess across the face. The gauntlet on Iago’s hand cracked against the soft skin of Corrin’s cheek, sending her toppling to the ground.

“I expect this mess be cleaned up by the time I return,” Iago shot back at Jakob, “Or else much worse will happen to you little boy.”

No faster than Iago stormed off did Jakob collapse before Corrin, reaching out to the injured princess with shaking hands. He wanted to inspect her but he was too scared to touch her. Corrin drew herself up to her knees, wiping the blood from her mouth.

“Princess…” Jakob whimpered, offering up his handkerchief to her. “ _Why did you… Why did you...?_ ”

“You’re my friend, Jakob.” Corrin spoke so simply, as if it were the plainest fact. “We look out for each other.” She shared a weak smile with him, accepting his handkerchief and pressing it to her torn mouth.

_We look out for each other._

Jakob let those words repeat in his head, as he drew his mind back from old memories. His thumb traced over the faded stains from all of those years ago. He wondered if that was the specific day he had fallen in love with Corrin. That day... and each day afterward leading up to this very moment.

He winced at the thought. He had spent the entirety of the last few days, throwing himself an elaborate pity party. Angry at the world that he could be so in love with someone that didn’t love him back. Would he ever know anything beyond the cold, sour taste of unrequited love? His own parents never loved him, why should Corrin be any different?

Jakob suddenly was overcome with shame, _how could he think that?_ This single memory was one of hundreds. Corrin had always treated Jakob with kindness and respect. She was always clearly mindful of his well-being and his happiness. Her affections may not have bloomed into the romance he had ached for, but it was no more than a selfish lie to claim that Corrin didn’t love him at all.

Jakob removed himself from the study and made his way to the royal gardens. The crisp morning air brought a little life to him as he sat upon a bench coiled with ivy. He rubbed his tired eyes before leaning back and watching the dew roll over the foliage around him. _But why the old man? Ugh._ At face value it didn’t make any sense. The Veteran Knight was a stoic, stern man. He always kept to himself, no evidence of a personality, no trace of a sense of humor. Yet, somehow Corrin clearly saw something in him. _What did she see?_ Jakob sat for a moment, allowing his negative bias to run its course. He knew his jealousy tainted his perception of the Great Knight.

He knew Sir Gunter as a severe, and sometimes even callous instructor. The veteran Knight initially wasn’t around all too often when Jakob and Corrin were very small. No, at that time, Gunter was the Captain of the Guard, the right hand of Garon. He commanded a battalion of Nohr’s fiercest soldiers back then. If Jakob recalled correctly, the sober man also smiled a lot more back then. _What had changed?_

A heaviness settled in the pit of his stomach as he remembered. No one had dared openly speak of it, but spread throughout the entire castle in hushed whispers was the tale of the destruction of a small, lowly village to the west. Lost in the carnage, the wife and child of the most decorated General in Garon’s army. There was so much speculation over how the attack had actually happened. Some said Barbarians, some said Hoshidan forces, but it was unimportant. The young Jakob was old enough to understand the once honored Captain had been stripped of his position and reassigned to the Northern Tower as an over glorified babysitter. The light had been drained from that once charming, valiant war hero, and was replaced with a static, apathetic hollow. More than once did Jakob catch the frayed knight isolating himself in the dark hours of the night, staring vacantly to the distance with his eyes bereft of life. This pain followed the Knight for years and years, not once did he speak of it.

Jakob shrunk into himself as he remembered more and more. Gunter had trained Jakob in both combat and domestic servitude, and although his methods were harsh and unforgiving, there were small, subtle moments of warmth. Numerous times, Gunter had acted as a buffer for Jakob; casting a single stern gaze at the malevolent Iago, causing the hostile mage to immediately turn tail and flee. He had also snuck Jakob morsels of food on the nights the young boy was denied dinner as punishment. The Knight never admitted it, but Jakob coincidentally found Gunter “patrolling” near the servants quarters each of the nights he would find dinner rolls and fruit neatly wrapped and hidden at his bedside.

Gunter was firmly punitive, pushing Jakob to the very thin perimeter of his physical and mental limits - but not once did he cross that line. The result was exceptional. Now, as a young man, Jakob had already become one of the finest menservants Nohr had ever seen. Although the Knight never came to say it outright, and despite their incessant squabbles and bickering, Jakob knew Gunter was proud of who he had become.

Jakob hunched over on his cold, stone bench. He placed his face in his hands and exhaled slowly. Just as every other avenue his mind traveled over the last few days, he brought himself once more to feelings of disgust; but it was different this time. He was disgusted with _himself._

He thought back to the intimate scene he had witnessed, but this time there was no rage, no jealousy. He recalled the glow about the two as they kissed one another. Blissful, smiling. Had he ever seen either one of them so... _happy?_

Jakob told himself time and time again that Corrin’s happiness was his singular priority, but was it _truly_? Or were each of his efforts tailored to satisfy his own happiness? Did he pour himself into his acts of selflessness to Corrin out of love? Or was it to earn the attention and affection he so selfishly craved? He lifted his head, brushed off his weariness and stood with resolve. He had an idea.

Gunter’s eyes strained as he stared at the numbers scribbled on the ledger in his hands. He was taking inventory of castle’s armaments, one of his usual evening tasks. Everything appeared to be in order in the armory, _unsurprising._ Marking off the last of his count with a feathered quill, Gunter set aside the ledger and began to inspect a few of miscellaneous pieces of armor, jotting down little notes as he did. Night had washed over the sky, as the knight quietly worked by the glow of the neat oil lamps and torches that lined the room. His own armor had been neatly polished and set aside for morning, he wore a loose fitting white tunic over a pair a fine pair of leather trousers. Even in his casual attire - the Knight still had a proud and proper aura about him. His silence was broken by a nervous cough. Gunter looked up to find Jakob, clearing his throat to grab his attention. Gunter grimaced, he had a feeling this confrontation was bound to happen; and yet part of him had ignorantly hoped enough time would pass that everything would be forgotten… or at least repressed.

“Good evening.” Jakob stood with his trademark flawless posture, his voice direct.

The Knight didn’t immediately respond, he took his head into his hand with a heavy sigh. His thumb and pointer finger massaging the fine lines on his forehead. He did not need this sort of stress.

“Jakob… _I…_ ” Gunter didn’t what to say or how to say it. He had no idea how to navigate this situation. The last he saw of Corrin was the day of the… incident. The two had worked together to tidy up the carnage that was smashed tea assortment Jakob had brought. They hadn’t discussed matters outside of Gunter nervously stammering on about his shame and Corrin, in turn, reassuring him that everything would work out.

“Go to Lady Corrin.” Jakob spat, his eyes cast to the ground.

“ _... Pardon_?” Gunter spoke slowly, unsure he had heard the butler properly.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, old man.” Jakob waved his hand dismissing the Knight’s inquiry, supporting the notion that Gunter did, in fact, hear him correctly.

“I have far too much to complete this evening. And besides, what happened-”

“I have personally seen to the rest of your evening duties.” Jakob rocked on his heel, having taken inspiration from Flora’s prior kindness.

Gunter swallowed, he had absolutely no idea how to respond to this news. Even if he _wanted_ to run to the Princess’ chambers, he simply could not make the same, foolish mistake from before. He had originally gone to Corrin’s chambers to extinguish the smoldering flame that had started between them _and that obviously worked out swimmingly for him._ In retrospect, the Knight and the Princess were lucky it was the butler that walked in on them, and not the crowned prince. Gunter shuddered at the thought. However, Jakob came prepared for Gunter’s concerns. He was a thorough young man, and he never proceeded with any plan prior to exploring every hypothetical.

“Flora, Felicia, and I will stand by to ensure you two are allowed adequate privacy.” Jakob was clearly becoming increasingly uncomfortable as the interaction lingered.

“We cannot give you the entirety of the night without looking suspicious, but we can at least keep any potential visitors at bay for a few hours.”

Gunter blinked at the young man before him, Jakob face was flushed red. The Knight himself was not particularly comfortable with the inappropriate nature of interaction, but he was touched.

“I… I don’t know what to say, Jakob.”

“Don’t say anything, just go.” Jakob turned away from Gunter, crossing his arms over his chest. Sensing Gunter’s hesitation, Jakob became impatient. “Get out of here before I change my mind.”

Gunter cleared his throat and removed himself from the room as instructed. Jakob watched the Knight as he faded into the dark hallway leading towards the eastern tower with restrained haste. The butler felt his eyes sting, but he refused to let himself shed any tears.

Days had passed. Discussions and debates from the war summit concluded and tactical decisions were made. Knight Commander Corrin and her troops had been mobilized to the south and were awaiting orders. It was here Jakob watched Corrin train a few of the new recruits. He could see so clearly that melancholy that held her prisoner had not only relinquished its hold, but was replaced with a lovely vibrancy. Strength had returned to her smile, her laughter was genuine and enchanting again, and her gaze, no longer vacant, shined with purpose and hope.

He watched her and felt a welcome warmth consume his heart. _She was happy again._ With a soft, knowing smile, Jakob retreated towards the mess hall to assist in preparing dinner. He walked alone, but he was content.

_We look out for each other._


	4. Rapture (NSFW)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey pals!
> 
> This is chapter is the evening scene that was alluded to the previous chapter - that said it contains explicit NSFW content. If sexually explicit material between F!Corrin/Gunter is something you would prefer not to read - I have written it so that you can skip this segment of the anthology and not lose anything too detrimental to the story. Feel free to proceed as you see fit!  
> Thank you for taking the time to read this, and have a great day!

The night air was cool and still. Gunter could feel it draw into his chest and expand in his lungs with each deep, intentional breath. He stood alone in the dark corridor, arms crossed over his broad chest, eyes focused on the ornate oak door before him as if were meditating on it. He was, in his own way. The Knight had moved so swiftly from the armory to the Eastern tower, he hadn’t allowed himself to mull over the weight of the situation. The altruism of the Nohrian servants certainly lessened the risk… but it was still high. He drew closer to the wooden portal that seperated the warm serenity of Corrin’s quarters from the rest of the cold, lifeless castle.

_How was he to proceed?_ He knew what he ached for but wasn’t convinced his heart was strong enough to bring his desires to fruition. Just beyond this door he knew what awaited him. A captivating Princess; a vibrant woman with unmatched ferocity on the battlefield and endless depths of compassion in her precious heart… And there he was. A Knight roughly two decades her senior, a lowly commoner far below her social status, the fractured remains of a broken man. _What could he possibly offer her?_ How inappropriate to think he could bring anything productive from reaching for the golden knob at her door. He hesitated, his fingers hovering over the shining globe that would lead him beyond a threshold from which there was no return. It had been nearly twenty years since Gunter last pursued a woman. His late wife, his beloved Elaine, whom which he loved so ferociously he couldn’t bring himself to desire anyone else. _Until now._

Gunter grabbed a fistful of the tunic at his chest, he was torn. He wasn’t a particularly religious man, but he wondered what she would think if she could see him now. Disheveled, trembling like a school boy. Could she see him? Could she feel his turmoil? Would she be angry or revolted? Or, in her ever loving way, would she wish to release him from his lingering mourning? He knew Corrin could never replace Elaine. No, there wasn’t a single woman that ever could; but Corrin stirred feelings within his silently aching heart. Feelings he thought he had forever lost to the numbing hollow. Feelings of belonging, of comfort and warmth.

A gentle melody danced through the air as Gunter softly pressed his forehead to her door. The Princess could be heard, pleasantly humming to herself. Closing his eyes, he listened. _What would come of this? What would tomorrow hold?_ The sound of her voice was reassuring, soaking into his heart, calming the storm in his mind and beckoning him to enter. Smoothing out the fist at his chest, he allowed his hand to fall upon the handle of the door. He knew in his heart this was the right decision. Holding his breath, he slowly opened it to the warm glow of the fireplace within.

The room was warm and fragrant of tea and delicate oils. Lavender. Her favorite. A somber glow emitted from the hearth within casting long shadows that danced in the flickering light. The young woman was sitting upon the chair before her vanity. Various perfume bottles and cosmetic trinkets shoved aside in favor of a makeshift workstation she created to polish her blade. Gunter smiled at this practical display, she was unlike any noble he had ever met.

Her short, dark hair was hastily pinned back as she worked. She wore only an ordinary oversized blouse peppered with stains of polish that draped over her simple underwear. Her long, bare legs were on display, catching Gunter off guard. To many, Corrin seemed plain in comparison to the voluptuous beauty of her older sister, Princess Camilla; or the sweet, dainty innocence that was the young Princess Elise. _Oh, but to him…_ He was enraptured. Gunter gazed lovingly at her, admiring her like a delicately painted masterpiece. He cherished her every detail. The beauty mark just below her right eye, the curve of her sweet, uneven smile… even her inability to maintain proper posture for long periods of time. Lovely little fragments that made up the whole of the woman she was. She looked so peaceful as she worked her blade, Gunter almost didn’t want to interrupt. Almost.

He had entered softly, beneath the pleasant song of her humming, consequently she did not notice him at first. The Knight softly cleared his throat, grabbing her attention as he cast his gaze away from her in a display of respect.

“Sir Gunter?” Corrin beamed as she set aside her weapon, wiping her hands on the handkerchief at the table before her. She rose to meet him, drinking in the sight of him. Gunter was truly unaware of just how handsome he was, but Corrin certainly wasn’t. She tepidly fought to keep her eyes from feasting on the large muscles accentuated by thin cloth of his tunic,but she lacked the art of resistance the man before her had mastered. The veteran Knight had aged like fine wine, and the Princess _desperately_ ached for a drink.

Gunter felt a pull in his heart, he couldn’t remember the last time someone had looked at him with such desire. These days others only looked at him with fearfulness, indifference, or often from nobles, annoyance. What he witnessed in Corrin’s eyes were none of those things. Admiration, infatuation… _hunger._

“What brings this pleasant surprise to my chambers tonight?” Corrin smiled, toying with him as she diminished the space between the two.

“Lady Corrin…” Gunter could only manage a hushed whisper.

“Please tell me you didn’t come here to talk.” She spoke more seriously, curling her fingers around his. Gunter could not muster a single word, but slowly shook his head unable to break free from the hold of her eyes. She too, could see the desperate longing hiding in the depths of his irises.

“Thank the Gods,” Corrin’s voice trembled, “for I fear I couldn’t bear it.”

All at once she rose up on her toes, pressing her lips to his. It was a soft kiss. A tender, telling kiss. A kiss that became deeper and deeper as they embraced. A light kiss that quickly transformed into one of passion and lust. Back and forth, they pushed into one another, swaying in the glow of the fire.

Corrin had never experienced such intimacy before, but locked away in her tower, she had years to vividly fantasize about this very moment. All of those years, lost in her head. Finally, he was in her arms. She felt no fear. Her fingers spread and explored the broad firmness of his toned chest, she whimpered softly against his mouth.

“Corrin… _wait._ ” Gunter pulled away from her. He caught his breath, witnessing a pale anxiety wash across Corrin’s face. The primal urge growing within the Princess begged her to pin the man against the wall and cover his mouth with hers to silence any argument he may have against their reunion, but she restrained herself. Please don’t leave me. She wanted to plead to combat the fear growing in her heart, but the words didn’t leave her mouth.

“Princess… My lady…” Gunter was uncertain if formal titles were appropriate for the words to come. He took her hands into his and gazed into her eyes, cutting deep into her core.

“Is this… _truly…_ what you want?”

Corrin fought the sting building up behind her eyes as she enthusiastically nodded.

“I am absolutely certain.” she whispered to him, she had burned for him for so long.

“It is settled, then…” Gunter lowered himself onto his knees, submitting to her at last. He brought her hand to his face, his lips tracing her fingers and knuckles before planting a tender kiss to the top of her hand. The Princess released a longing sigh, running her free hand through the soft tousles of his silvery hair. His adoring gaze ascended to meet hers, devotion in his eyes.

“ _I am entirely yours, Corrin._ ”

Corrin could no longer hold back the tears burning in her eyes. Tears of joy fell freely from her cheeks, tears that the Knight before her shared in a display of complete release. At last he was shedding the suffocating skin of his deprived, disciplined persona. He rose, his hands falling to her waist as her presented her with a tender kiss. He could feel his empty heart mending deep within his core as Corrin gently collected his tears with her fingertips; her fingers felt like hot coals against his skin, burning away the deep roots of pain that years of loneliness and isolation had planted within him.

Strong hands fell to the back of Corrin’s thighs where he seamlessly lifted her off of the ground in one smooth motion, stealing her breath from her. She felt secure and weightless in his arms as he carried her to the bed. She did not expect the rough hands that had served the Knight through years of combat and labor, to be so gentle. He carefully lowered Corrin to the bed. Hovering over her his lips traced across her jawline over to her earlobe then down to the nape of her neck. A soft moan fell from Corrin’s lips, melting beneath the weight of him. He rose up to his knees from her for a moment to remove the tunic from himself.

Corrin burned, admiring his muscular physique, she reached out to touch him. He was a solid wall of a man, his hard body chiselled from his decades of dedicated training as a Knight of the Nohrian order. Her curious fingertips traced over every inch; savoring every muscle, every scar. She leaned up to him, lips falling to a deep scar that ran across his chest. She didn’t want to imagine the sort of pain he must have endured to earn such scars. He had so many… but from this moment on she wouldn’t allow him to collect any more. Gunter’s breath was heavy, his chest slowly heaving beneath her hands. She bucked her hips up against him, begging his body to return the favor.

Gunter found her eagerness arousing, but even in the wake of his lust, he stayed true to his attentive nature. He smiled warmly, holding her face in his hands. He wanted to savor her, to bask in her decadence. He wanted to see her tremble with the overpowering pleasure he could bring her. She deserved nothing less.

“Have you been with a man before, Corrin?” He asked softly. He was quite confident he already knew, but he offered her the courtesy of answering for herself. A heavy rose blush spread across the Princess’ face as she looked away in embarrassment. She shook her head. She had considered it, surely, and there were a few men she knew that would have eagerly taken her up on the offer. In her mind however, Corrin was set on _him._ She had it made up in her heart for quite some time now; only Gunter could claim her and satiate her hunger.

“No, no, Corrin that’s quite alright,” Gunter’s voice was soft and reassuring. He kissed her deeply, pressing her back down into the soft pillows of the bed, “I just want to make sure we do this right.” He planted a kiss on her forehead, “I want this to be a good experience for us… for _you._ ”

Corrin wasn’t expecting such tenderness. All of her knowledge of intimacy leading up to this moment were from raunchy romance novellas that Camilla had “accidentally” left her, and overhearing the conversations of various noblewomen as they described their escapades. She had heard that it was supposed to hurt the first time, that it was supposed to be unpleasant. This Knight, little by little was unraveling everything she thought she knew. He wasn’t a hasty, spoiled noble brat or a horny, self concerned boy; He was a man. This difference was becoming quite clear.

Gunter kissed her lips, then her chin, and then her chest. Corrin’s hands affectionately ran through his hair as he continued his journey south. She held her breath, watching him curiously. He slowly lifted her shirt to press his lips against the soft silk of her bare stomach. His lips trailed further and further south until his head rested between her quivering thighs, she could feel his hot breath against her most sensitive parts and she shivered.

“Gunter… _What are you…?_ ” Corrin’s hands covered the sides of her red face, she was overwhelmed and embarrassed. Did he really want to…?

“ _May I?_ ” His voice was smooth and sultry. Gunter lifted his head to meet the nervous eyes of his lover, he offered up a reassuring hand to comfort her, which she gladly accepted. Breathing hard and biting her lips, Corrin nodded with approval.

Carefully, Gunter eased her underwear down her long, soft legs and let them fall to the floor. He gently pushed her thighs apart just a little further and pressed his mouth to the pink of her soft, wet lips.

Corrin gasped, grabbing at his hair, completely unprepared for the shockwaves that spread through her body. She was dripping already, but Gunter wouldn’t be satisfied until he knew she was properly prepared for his reception. He slowly worshipped her with his tongue, as his fingers spread her lips like a flower in bloom. Her scent, her taste was intoxicating to the Knight; he felt as though he could spend an eternity between her legs. His skillful lips enjoyed her slowly, ensuring her plenty of time to adjust to this newfound pleasure. Corrin surprised herself with the desperate moan that escaped the back of her throat. She drew one hand to her mouth and bit down on her knuckles. Smiling at the delicious sound, Gunter lapped at her, his tongue caressing the bud of her clitoris as he lead a finger to the base of her hot, velvet opening.

Corrin trembled beneath his touch gasping as he slowly, gradually worked his finger into her. Feeling her tight walls pucker around it, he drew his finger in and out of her slowly. He was focused, carefully listening to her body. When he felt her relax, his finger moving with more ease, he carefully added a second; his tongue still massaging her sensitive bud. Corrin cried out, squirming beneath him, overwhelmed with pleasure. Her body was hot and tense, reactive to Gunter’s every stroke, electricity was quickly building up within her. The Knight carefully pumped his fingers in and out of her, curling them against her sensitive walls with each stroke. He was steady and deliberate at first, but as Corrin fell deeper and deeper into ecstasy, his fingers followed suit. Watching her he adjusted accordingly, quickening his pace as she rocked her hips into him.

Corrin shielded her crimson face with her hands as her body convulsed into a powerful climax. Her thighs squeezed around her lover as she dramatically arched her back against the bed and cried out his name. After a few deep breaths, Corrin came back down to earth, remembering herself. Gunter rose back up to her, wiping the excess moisture from his mouth with the back of his hand with a satisfied grin. He took a moment to unfasten the clasp of his belt. Corrin was still basking in the blissful weightlessness of her orgasm when she took notice of the generous bulge in Gunter’s trousers. The needy plea in the Knight’s eyes was enough to reinvigorate the fire between her thighs. She ached for more.

She sat up, lightly shaking and lifted the oversized smock up and over her shoulders and let it float over the side of the bed. When she returned her eyes to Gunter, she was greeted with his generous erection. It was just as impressive as the rest of him. The Knight himself appeared a bit uneasy, completely exposed before her. He felt lewd, he hadn’t presented himself to a woman in far too many years. Corrin sensed his nerves; she claimed his hot swollen shaft in her hands as her mouth connected to his. She carefully caressed and kneaded his member. Gunter whined into her mouth, so sensitive after years of abstinence. He became undone, weak at the long forgotten sensation of touch.

Without speaking, Corrin encouraged Gunter’s hands to explore the uncharted territory of her naked body; he gladly obliged. Hands explored the curve of her back and the soft mounds of her breasts. Corrin whimpered and Gunter groaned, the sensation of their bare bodies against one another, skin on skin, was irresistible. Corrin reclined and pulled him down onto her in a deep kiss. She held onto his quivering body tightly. The Princess gasped at the sensation of his hard cock against her damp inner thigh. She drew back down from Gunter just enough to look into his eyes.

“ _Take me, Gunter._ ” Her words were silk in his ears, “ _Make me yours._ ”

His entire body softly quaked as he pressed his lips to her forehead once more. His gaze locked with hers accepting her invitation. Slowly, he guided himself to her tight opening. His eyes never faltered from hers as he penetrated her. A guttural moan emitting from his chest and he buried himself in her wet, velvet heat. The sheer pleasure of it was almost too much for him to bear. Corrin cried out, feeling herself stretch to accommodate his girth, ecstacy overwhelming her. Her arms trembled around him and she clung to his solid body. She let go of all inhibitions, meeting each of his low groans with equally desperate pleas. Together, the two filled the air with a symphony of pleasured cries.

Gunter grunted as he steadily increased his pace and intensity much to Corrin’s enthusiasm, the woman writhed beneath his weight. He angled himself to her that his pelvis would come to rub the bud of her clitoris with every thrust. His mouth hungrily explored her face, neck and chest as she tensed up and deliciously arched into him. Corrin met him in his rhythm, grinding against him taking him in as deeply as she could.

“ _Oh gods, Gunter! I’m going to… I’m going to-_ ” Corrin cried as Gunter held her tightly, pumping himself in and out of her passionately. He felt as though he would burst at the seam, but he drove himself with great endurance, unyielding until he finally pushed her hard into an incredible, shuddering climax. She screamed, tightly contracting around his throbbing cock causing a roar to erupt from her lover. Much to Corrin’s dismay, he pulled out from her. Removing himself just in time, the man moaned loudly as he experienced his first orgasm in years. His body quaked as he came generously onto Corrin’s thighs and the sheets beneath them.

They collapsed together in a heap of hot, dewy skin upon the Princess’ bed. Gunter’s face buried in Corrins chest as she curled herself around him, stroking his hair with her narrow fingers. They lay in peaceful silence for what felt like forever, both withstanding the tempting lull of slumber. They wanted to enjoy this moment, to be present with one another. They knew it wouldn’t last, but they reveled in the sacred afterglow for as long as they could.

After some time, Gunter shifted to sit at the edge of the bed. Corrin followed behind, draping her arms around him affectionately. She wanted him to stay, she wanted to _beg_ and _plead_ ; but she knew he couldn’t. She smoothed his shoulders down, planting a kiss to the top of his head.

“ _Thank you._ ” She whispered, pressing her forehead to the back of his neck. 

He exhaled and with a heavy heart the Knight stood and collected his clothing, dressing himself for departure. Corrin watched him lovingly, planted in the center of her bed; her bare knees brought to her chest.

Gunter wasn’t expecting this to be so hard for him, he knew the moment he left her chambers, he would transition back into a cold, lonely world. A world in which they would have to pretend this bliss didn’t exist. He turned back to his Princess, claiming her face in his hands and kissing her deeply. He couldn’t find the proper words to offer her, so instead he planted a final, tender kiss on her forehead.

“ _Gunter…_ ” Corrin called to him as he moved reluctantly towards the door. He looked back to meet her vibrant smile, “ _We will make this work._ ”

A smile of his own grew over his lips, touched by her confident optimism.

“We will.” He nodded. He was uncertain if there was any truth in those words, but it felt so good to say them out loud, to release them into the universe.

Corrin laid herself back, luxuriously wrapping herself in the blankets where Gunter’s warmth remained. She closed her eyes, saving herself the heartache that was watching him leave.

He left her knowing he would do everything in his power to make those words reign true. The future was uncertain, but his feelings were not. He made his way back to his quarters with a certain weightlessness in each step, feeling younger than he had in years. He was no longer hollow, no longer hurting, but full of warmth and light. His invigorated state must have been quite obvious as he passed through the courtyard. The sister maids, Felicia and Flora watched him with knowing eyes, giggling to themselves as he passed them by. Turning red, Gunter quickened his pace as the sisters relished the sight of his embarrassment. The stoic, unfeeling Knight reduced to a blushing awkward mess that scrambled away from them.

He knew he would never live this down, but underneath it all, he didn’t mind


	5. Metamorphosis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Spoilers: Revelations; Gunter's past

_It appears I have a visitor._ The diminutive elderly man mused to himself, a small smile drawing across his kind, wrinkled face. He sat thoughtfully upon a woven bamboo sheet in the center of his modest chamber. The room opened to long pastel clouds obscuring the cascading opalescent mountains surrounding his hidden compound near Notre Sagesse. It had been some time since he felt the presence of another being enter the threshold of his abode. He could sense the aura of his newfound guest whispering to him in the air.

_Myths and legends,_ say that of the common folk about the Rainbow Sage. No more than idle fancies to embolden the hearts of travellers and warriors alike. Yet there he was, in the flesh; starting each serene morning thoughtfully meditating before the sun rising over the mountainscape, awaiting his guests. Those who _did_ believe the stories knew of the arduous test of mettle that awaited any adventurers that dared to attempt an audience with the Sage. For the bravest of souls that sought out his presence, awaited a dangerous and punishing trek through the harsh wilderness to merely reach his compound. An even more brutal trial of physical and mental fortitude awaited within its towering walls. The reward? Well, that all depends on who you ask. Invaluable wisdom, says the scholar; unlimited power, argues the soldier; riches and wenches, claims the local drunk. None of them were incorrect… save for the drunkard.

To this day, only the most valiant, fearless nobles with a battalion of their finest soldiers ever made it to his inner sanctum and attempted the Sage’s trials. Of those few men and women, even fewer succeeded. However, rising from his lotus position, the Sage could feel this was _different._ He closed his eyes, tapping into the veins of his sanctuary with his mind. He could feel the trial begin in his bones, and felt the fiery resistance in the spirit of the contender. Unlike trials of the past, however, he could only feel the presence of one being. How curious.

Had this being lost their comrades on the journey to this compound? Or had they truly sought out the Rainbow Sage… _alone?_ Regardless, the sanctum had no sympathy for the traveller. No, without prejudice, it challenged the pilgrim with ferocity equal to any past party, regardless of the number of soldiers. The Sage could sense, as the force slowly pushed onward, tremendous rage and immense sorrow emanating from the spirit of the challenger. This being wasn’t here for glory; not for honor or riches. No, this was a labor of desperation. The Sage was moved with compassion. Although he could not reduce the severity of the trial - he felt himself rooting for the unknown traveler.

The Sage drew his focus inward - honing his perception. He could feel as the warrior continued onward through each labyrinthine chamber casting away each opponent that manifested against them. They were worn, but unyielding. Determined to succeed, fighting with every fiber of their being with nothing to lose. Closer and closer the warrior fought, tearing down each sentinel in their path, the raw energy within the being transmitted more clearly to the Sage. _Loss._

Focusing, He could begin to vividly see visions, deep within his mind’s eye, the root of suffering deep within this fearless warrior.

_A humble village decimated, rubble and ashes. The scent of blood, iron, decay. An unexpected massacre that came in the silence of the night; villagers, children, slain in their beds. A small farmhouse, towards the edge of the village, violently ransacked by soldiers bearing the crest of Nohr… what were they seeking? A brave woman clutching a little child, shielding the babe from the billowing smoke as she fled into the night. She was determined, her legs carrying as quickly as her adrenaline would allow. If only she could pass through this fiery valley, to hide within the thick brush of the forests before her; there was hope yet. Approaching the border of the woodlands, from the blaze and smoke behind her emerged a fiend, eyes glowing with bloodlust atop his horse, black as night. The abrasive sound of clanking armor and the thudding of hooves filled her heart with dread. The woman refused to look back, staying strong for her daughter._

_“Fix your eyes on me, little one.” She gently hushed the girl weeping against her chest, “You are safe in my arms.” Tears fell from her face as she cradled her child, accepting the reality that she could not outrun the demon pursuing her. Humming a gentle lullaby, she kissed the top of her daughter’s head. At once, she felt the burn of iron at the back of her shoulders, struck down. She collapsed, clutching her precious little child. Her kind smile and soft lullaby persisted despite the pain wrought down upon her. The large monster dismounted from his armored mare, approaching the two with his bloody blade drawn; sunken eyes glaring in the fire light. His armor adorned with expensive furs, sprayed crimson by his onslaught, he was royalty. She could make out the silhouette of his crown, but refused to give the demented King the satisfaction of her fear. Humming her lullaby vigilantly, she ensured even as her life slowly floated from her body, that her daughter’s last moments were of comfort and love._

_“Nohr is grateful for your sacrifice.” The fiend hissed before plunging his blade into the child and her mother, who, even in death, held her sweet smile._

_That is how her husband, the warrior, found them them at the break of dawn._

The Sage turbulently awakened from of his vision, unexpected tears streaking his cheeks. He now understood the weight of the warrior’s drive. The Rainbow Sage brought his wrinkled knuckles to dry his cheeks. Within his chest, he felt the last of his sentinels fall, he turned, eagerly awaiting the arrival of the victorious pilgrim.

Slowly, the modest door leading to the Sage’s final chamber opened. From the shadows emerged a fully armored figure. The warrior’s lance trembled in his hands and he approached the humble Sage.

“Welcome, weary traveler.” The Sage slowly nodded at the man who heaved of exhaustion before him. The victor removed his helm, revealing the face of a knight barely beyond his third decade in life. His silvery hair unkempt with the sweat of his labor. He lowered himself to one knee and bowed his head in the supernatural presence of the elder before him. The Sage was touched by this display of respect.

“Tell me boy, who are you and what is it that you seek?”

Catching his breath, in a state of disbelief over his success. The knight raised his tired eyes to meet the Sage,

“I am Sir Gunter, wise Sage. I have come to you seeking justice.”

The Sage eyed the man curiously, stroking his beard as he pondered.

“And what is it, you think, that I have to offer you?”

“You are the entity that forged the legendary weapons inherited by the princes of Nohr.” Gunter rose to his feet with purpose, “The dark tome, Brynhildr and the legendary blade, Siegfried. I have come seeking a weapon of equal strength.”

The Sage grimaced. As valiant and deserving as this Knight was, he did not have a physical weapon to offer him. No, the Sage had only forged five, and after witnessing the centuries destruction the mortals wrought upon the earth with his creations… he vowed to never create another. He only wished to bring the mortals peace, but his most precious creations turned into his greatest transgressions. The Sage himself did not determine who the destined owners of his ancient weapons would be, but he did know ownership was not written in this Knight’s destiny.

“I am afraid I cannot fulfill your wish.”

“Outrageous!” Gunter roared, lance loudly crashed to the ground as he threw it aside in anger. “You do not understand what it has taken for me to stand here before you! What I have lost!”

The Sage closed his eyes before the Knight, unflinching in the verbal onslaught.

“A tyrannical fiend sits upon the throne of Nohr! He must be held to face the consequences of his crimes! He must pay!” Gunter’s voice faltered as his rage absorbed the last of his energy. Broken and shaking, the man fell to his knees. _His wife, Elaine… His little girl, Rosemary…_

“Surely… you have something to offer me…” He croaked, “ _anything._ ”

The Sage slowly approached the man groveling before him, placing a hand upon his shoulder. Drawing in from Gunter’s energy, the Sage closed his eyes to glimpse into the tapestry of the young man’s fate. It was… _ambiguous,_ but the Sage deciphered what he could. He remained silent for a few minutes.

“I do not have a weapon for you, brave Knight… but that is not what you seek.”

“I don’t understand…”

“Patience. Return to your kingdom. You will find answers, you will receive your justice.” The Sage turned from the man, spiritually exhausted. “The Tyrant king will fall, in time. You will play an integral role in this, Sir Gunter, but you must remain vigilant.”

“ _Please…_ I cannot allow him to cause any more suffering.” His armored fist clenched against his chest.

“Fate is a curious thing, Sir Gunter… a combination of choice and chance that holds no regard for the affairs of man.” The Sage spoke softly as he returned to his mat and resumed his lotus position. “What is meant to be will always find a way.”

The Knight composed himself, rising to his feet he collected his lance. He did all he could to heed the words of the Sage; even if they weren’t what he wanted to hear.

“There are others who will need you; your guidance and your strength. _Lead them._ Without your influence, Garon will not be stopped.”

Gunter digested his words, pondering them.

“Go now. We will meet again on day.”

The Nohrian Knight was reluctant to leave, his aching heart pleading for something more. Yearning for justice, for his lost family, his village. He turned from the Sage, discouraged. Slowly, his aching body carried him away. He returned his armored helm to his head.

“Sir Gunter…”

The knight froze in his tracks.

_“You will have choices to make… Do not let your thirst for vengeance decide them for you.”_

It had been nearly two decades since that fateful meeting; To this day, Gunter had never spoken of it. The esteemed Knight sat atop his valiant mount, armor glistening in the burnt Nohrian sunset, he was truly a sight to behold. He was much wiser, much stronger, much more patient than the man who sought out the Sage. He found comfort in knowing he had fulfilled the Sage’s premonition. The Nohrian servants and the Royal children, he played a pivotal role in their development, a combat trainer to some and a tutor or mentor to others. Each of them had developed into incredible, compassionate young men and women. He was proud of the people they had become.

One woman in particular, Princess Corrin, whom he so diligently served, had transformed into a leader. She crossed the Nohrian-Hoshidan divide and forged unexpected alliances. She fought alongside her forces and lead them to countless victories. She even stole the old Knight’s heart from him. Gunter had no doubt in his mind that she would come to finally put an end to Garon’s menacing reign.

Yet, deep below his consciousness. Beneath his loyalty, dedication, and love… Hid the whispers of darkness lying dormant within his spirit… Most days, with Corrin beside him, he felt as though he was free from the grip of hatred that suffocated him in his younger years; It wasn’t always so. There were darker days. For although the Knight brought the Sage’s grand visions to fruition, he failed to heed his final warning.

_“You will have choices to make… Do not let your thirst for vengeance decide them for you.”_

As much as he so desperately desired, he could not truly escape the consequences of the choices he made. A decision made in a moment of weakness and anger. A bargain he had come to regret. He spent most days basking in blissful ignorance, hoping he would never be held to pay the cost of the pact that promised him power and revenge. But in isolated moments of silence, however, he could feel himself gradually slipping. The malicious influence eating away at him one tiny morsel at a time. Lost in thought, a darkness fell upon Gunter’s face. Deep within his glassy eyes cast upon the horizon, grew a faint, ominous violet haze. How much longer could he keep himself?

“Good evening, Darling.” Corrin’s voice snapped the veteran Knight from his trance. Eyes blinking back to normalcy, He dismounted his horse to meet her. He anxiously scanned the environment for any sign of an audience. They had been successful so far in keeping their affair a secret from anyone beyond the loyal Nohrian servants, hearing a pet name used so openly made him anxious, if not a little excited.

“Worry not, we are alone.” Corrin chuckled warmly, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Her smile soon faded as she inspected her lovers’ pained face. Gunter struggled to look her in the eyes.

“What weighs so heavily on your heart?” A hand gently rested upon his cheek, coaxing him into her concerned gaze.

“Forgive me,” Gunter sighed planting a kiss on her forehead before drawing her into an brief embrace. “I am just reflecting on the cost of this war, nothing to trouble yourself with.” He wasn’t entirely dishonest, but his heavy heart burned within his chest with the knowledge he kept from her.

“I hope you understand,” She took his face into her hands, thumbs gently rubbing his temples. “I am here to share in your dreams _and_ your burdens, Gunter. I will do whatever I can to help ease your ache.”

“You already do so much more than you realize, Corrin.” He turned his face to tenderly kiss the palm of her hand. “Now… do you have news of our next assignment?” Corrin sighed dejectedly at his sudden change of topic. Deflecting his emotions with business, typical.

“We will be leaving for Notre Sagesse at dawn. Will you be accompanying me?” Corrin asked. She always extended the courtesy of choice to each of her units. _So it was finally time to meet the Sage again?_

“Always, your majesty.”

“Rest well tonight, I will see you in the morning.” Corrin nodded respectfully as she turned to depart. Noting the discontent that painted her face, Gunter reached out to gently claim her wrist.

“Wait.”

The Princess looked back at him, her face straining to remain collected. She wouldn’t admit it, but she struggled with her secret relationship with the Knight. She ached to openly share and display her affection for Gunter, she was _proud_ to be his. Openness was an unknown privilege the other couples within the camp took for granted; how envious she was of them. Corrin couldn’t care less about the politics or the opinions of those who might chastise them for their difference in age or in social status. What she felt for the Knight was organic, she knew in her heart it was _right_.

“Won’t you stay with me for a while?” The Knight’s words were warm and welcome.

“You… truly mean that?” She was caught off guard by his words, swallowing the lump that formed in her throat. Gunter seamlessly mounted his horse, extending a hand to Corrin, beckoning her to join him.

“I would like nothing more.” He smiled as she accepted his palm. Steadily, he guided her up and placed her snuggly before him. She reclined back into him with a satisfied sigh, basking in the security of the strong arms draped around her. He softly kissed the back of her head, breathing in the sweet musk of her hair. Together, they watched the the deep violet sky soak over the fading orange glow of the descending sun in a stunning display. _The future would inevitably unravel,_ the Knight thought to himself as he held Corrin a little tighter; but worrying over that of which he had no control was unproductive and self-destructive. For now, he was content. He slowly savored this moment; fulfilled by simply basking in the stunning, unparalleled beauty before him.

He thought the sunset was quite lovely, too.


	6. Alliances Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boy, here comes one of the most self-indulgent chapters of this entire fic. In Fire Emblem: Fates, there (surprisingly) isn’t much exploration into royal politics. To sum this chapter up: this is Fire Emblem meets Downton Abbey and all of the bullshit you would imagine to come along with that. I just felt the need to write needless romantic fluff. Sit back and enjoy the flower crowns, royal balls, and romantic drama I have written for you!

What a change of pace it was to be seated within the delicate velvet of a royal Norhian carriage. Corrin dreamily watched the trees pass her by as she sat across from her sisters who had fallen asleep some time ago. They looked so peaceful there. Camilla with her head tilted and mouth agape, little Elise leaning into her older sister’s shoulder, snoring softly. Every now and again Corrin would review the intricate letter in her hands if only to reassure herself she wasn’t dreaming. A lovely little thing, an invitation written in charming calligraphy. After carving out a name for herself on the battlefield, it didn’t take long for tales of Corrin’s valiant exploits to travel to the ears of other kingdoms. Particularly after word of the Rainbow Sage bestowing upon her, the legendary Alpha Yato spread. The Princess, who was previously hidden away in her tower by Garon’s order, was emerging into the free world, a champion of the Rainbow Sage - and it didn’t take long for various nobles to begin requesting audiences. 

Prince Xander was quick to cast aside most of the formal invitations as they flooded in, the war left little time for petty formalities. However, this particular invitation was not to be overlooked. The correspondence came from an esteemed prince of a kingdom to the south, just beyond the borders of Nohr, and with it, promises of valuable resources the Nohrian army simply could not pass up. It simply requested attendance to a small feast in Lady Corrin’s honor. It was simple enough, if… _ambiguous._ The crown Prince and his younger brother Leo stayed behind to maintain a presence in Nohr, entrusting Camilla and her retainers the responsibility of Corrin’s safety. Of course, Elise invited herself along and there was absolutely no talking her down.

They made for quite the caravan, the three princesses within the ornamental carriage, Gunter and Flora seated upright at the reins, and the quartet of retainers following behind on horseback. After two day’s travel, the royal band approached the northern gate of Mithia. Quite the contrast to Nohr, Mithia was a small, bright kingdom surrounded by the natural defense of steel, snow capped mountains. Tall, proud banners of mythril and silver bearing the royal Mithial insignia; a grand labrys encompassed by ornate antlers. 

“Lady Corrin,” Flora cooed as she gently rapped at the carraige wall, “Please prepare to be received, we will be arriving shortly.”

Corrin gently woke her sisters as the carriage passed within the tall threshold of the kingdom walls.

“Wow!” Elise watched with wide, glistening eyes as they passed through the sleet cobblestone roads of Mithia. Commonfolk looked onto the carriage with warm, welcoming smiles. Stoic royal guards lined the path to the castle, each adorned in the deep indigo armor the kingdom was so well known for. Camilla herself was taken back by how… _happy_ they all seemed. Was there once a time Nohr felt this warm? Higher, the caravan drew up towards the castle that stood high at the epicenter of the kingdom. They came to a halt just before the towering gate of the royal courtyard, Gunter seamlessly stepped down from his seat behind the horses to assist the princesses descend from the carriage. Elise was the first to come bounding out excitedly, spinning on her heels in wonder at the castle around her. Camilla was next, luxuriously stretching the slumber from her body, she walked on to join her little sister. Last, Gunter helped Corrin down, his hand tenderly lingering upon hers for just a moment longer than necessary. His small, quiet sign of affection earned a sweet smile from the princess. She adored these little moments, sharing knowing glances and subtle touches beneath the notice of others. 

“Thank you, Sir Gunter.” She graced him with a slight curtsy. 

“Of course, your majesty.” His low, sultry voice was honey to her ears. A young man came out to greet the princesses, fair tousled hair swept back over his pleasant face. He wore a pristine navy uniform, a crest cast from the kingdom’s trademark Mythril pinned to the breast of his fine coat. 

“It is truly a pleasure to be the first the welcome you to our humble kingdom.” He bowed, “I am Tobias. I am privileged to serve as the royal stewart of Prince Giovanni.” He gestured politely towards the cobblestone path leading towards the open entryway of the castle. The path was lined with pleasant royal attendants who welcomed the Nohrian royalty.

“The Prince is waiting just inside, he is so anxious to meet you all. If you would please follow me.” Tobias turned to lead the way. The castle courtyards consisted mostly of tall stone arches coiled with lovely Mithial poppies and fountains that sparkled with mountain spring water. Inside, two young attendants awaited the Nohrian royalty with small welcome gifts. Elise squealed with delight as she was presented a lovely flower crown made up of the blue poppies that decorated the castle’s exterior. 

“Mithial poppies are truly a treasure,” a deep unfamiliar voice echoed, a dashing figure emerging from behind the tall ebony doors that led to the extravagant main hall. “There are few flowers that thrive in our high altitudes. They are strong and enduring, but also delicate and beautiful.” Adorned in glistening mythril armor with fine silver embellishments, the crest of Mithia planted at the heart of his breastplate, the man approached Corrin with a polite bow. He claimed her hand and softly planted a kiss upon it, “Very much like you. Lady Corrin, I presume?” 

A red blush flushed over the faces of Camilla and Elise who swooned over the charm of the exotic prince. Corrin was absolutely flattered, but she felt a little strange; having never interacted with other nobles before she awkwardly coughed into the fist of her free hand. 

Behind them, in the line of attendants Flora subtly jabbed her elbow firmly into Gunter’s side, drawing his focus away from the young prince he was unintentionally glaring daggers at. The unexpected jealousy that blossomed in his chest caught him off guard. Remembering himself, Gunter gave Flora a composed, if embarrassed nod. Flora chuckled softly to herself, oh how amusing it was to see the Great Knight squirm over their Nohrian Liege. 

“It is truly a pleasure to meet you, Prince Giovanni.” Corrin offered a respectful nod. The Mithial Prince gifted her with a stunning smile. He was truly a handsome young man, thick waves of dark hair fell around his broad shoulders. Shining whiskey colored eyes upon sharp cheeks below thick arched eyebrows. Unlike the fair skinned citizens of Nohr, Prince Giovanni’s skin was a rich, warm olive with dark golden undertones. Mithia was, after all, a proud kingdom built off the backs of generations immigrants that braved the harsh mountainous terrain to claim the precious mythril hidden within. The result was a beautifully diverse populace, Prince Giovanni was a spitting image of that harmonious evolution. 

“I assure you, the pleasure is all mine,” He stood tall and clasped his hands together as he nodded to both Elise and Camilla, “You must be very tired from your travels. Please, allow my attendants to show you to your quarters. I hate to depart from you so soon, but I fear I have quite a bit of busy work to complete before the evening’s festivities.” 

“We look forward to it,” Camilla cooed, eyeing the man up and down. The Prince gave a final bow before departing from their presence, as he did, Gunter felt his shoulders relax. 

“Please do follow us, your majesty!” Several attendants beckoned the princesses down an indigo corridor decorated with expensive fabrics and paintings. The Nohrian ladies followed, their retainers trailing behind. The Mithial attendants took it upon themselves to carry the luggage that Camilla, Elise, and each of the retainers brought with them. 

“Allow me,” Tobias beamed, politely reaching for Princess Corrin’s belongings. 

“It’s quite alright.” Gunter intervened with a grunt, claiming the delicate trunk in his arms. The nervous Tobias was uncertain how to react, a bead of sweat forming at his brow. Flora placed a reassuring hand upon his shoulder as they lingered behind the rest of the group. 

“Please don’t mind him. Sir Gunter is quite protective of Lady Corrin.” She explained, “You must understand, this is her first audience at another kingdom after all. Nothing to take personally.” 

“Oh thank the gods,” Selena, the crimson haired retainer of Camilla, could be heard complaining ahead. “I am so ready for a nap.” 

“This evening can’t get here soon enough,” chirped Effie, the fair haired knight who watched over little Elise, “My stomach is _aching_ for this feast.” 

As they approached the end of the corridor, the group prepared to divide in seperate directions. Camilla took a moment to retrieve a small box from her luggage, a dainty box lovingly wrapped with lovely bow. 

“This is a gift I had made especially for you darling.” She doted over her younger sister, pinching her cheek much to Corrin’s dismay. She drew close to whisper in her ear, “I think it will assist you with your rendezvous with Prince Giovanni tonight.” Without further explanation, Camilla wandered off towards her quarters. Before she could process Camilla’s cryptic message, her attention was taken elsewhere. 

“This way, Lady Corrin!” Tobias beamed turning a corner and heading up a small spiral staircase that lead to a beautiful ornate bedroom that overlooked the Mithial mountain range. 

“Tobias, would you mind showing me to the servants quarters?” Flora inquired drawing the young butler away. 

“Yes, of course! We have actually prepared seperate rooms for each of you as well, if you would just follow me this way.” Tobias and Flora could be heard making pleasant conversation, fading away down the stairs and into the corridor beyond. Gunter gently placed Corrin’s trunk at the foot of the large, ornate bed as Corrin walked out onto the balcony to admire the horizon. 

“Thank you for tending to my luggage, Gunter.” Corrin smiled as the Knight joined her in the crisp mountain air. 

“You do not have to thank me each time I do what is expected of me, your majesty.” 

“Regardless of your station, I like to remind you that you are truly appreciated.” the Princess turned to smile, but grimaced at Gunter’s sour expression. “What is bothering you?” 

“Did Lord Xander elaborate at all on what Prince Giovanni was expecting out of this audience with you?” 

“What do you mean?” Corrin looked at him quizzically. 

“The way the Prince interacted with you… I hate to even entertain the idea, that perhaps for a few resources, you are being put on display for marriage candidacy.” 

“ _Marriage candidacy?_ Gunter, don’t be foolish you know Xander wouldn’t stand for such a thing.” 

“No, of course Xander wouldn’t. However, King Garon is an entirely different story.” “No. Absolutely not. I am simply here to make a public appearance to display our alliance. Nothing more.” The Princess frowned, shaking her head. She stubbornly folded her arms over her chest, denying the fear that began to take hold of her. Gunter had many years of experience in royal affairs and political strategy; the Princess did not. Never did it cross Corrin’s mind that she might one day be sold off to the highest bidder. Her heart sank into her stomach at the thought of being shipped off to some far away kingdom, _was she truly destined to escape one tower just to become a prisoner of another?_

The two stood in silence, looking out over the pastel expanse of the mountain range. Corrin turned to voice her worry only to have her words stolen by a firm, possessive kiss as the Knight pinned her to the balcony door. At once, she melted, her thoughts fluttering away as butterflies filled the anxious cavity of her chest. His lips burned reassurance into hers as his strong body firmly held her in place. She whimpered into his mouth, suddenly weak at the knees. She felt safe here in the security of his arms; surrounded by the fortress that was him. 

“I swear to you Corrin,” Gunter’s hot breath rolled across her lips, “I will not allow your freedom to be taken from you. _Never again_.” 

Corrin tightly wrapped her arms around the Knight, burying her face at the base of his neck. She had no words, but the passion of her embrace spoke volumes of her gratitude. 

“Corrin, I…” Gunter slowly drew away from her having difficult forming the words he wished to say to her. “ _I…_ ” He sighed, defeated. “I… must return to Flora before suspicions are raised.” Sharing a handsome, reassuring smile, he turned to leave. 

“I do not deserve you, you know that?” Corrin called to him, admiring the Knight as he walked away. 

“I believe you have that sentiment backwards, dear Lady Corrin.” He spoke sweetly without turning back to look at her. Princess Corrin stood breathlessly, now alone in her temporary quarters. A mess of emotions. She sauntered over to the gift box that sat neatly beside the ornate trunk that held her belongings. Carefully, her fingers worked to loosen the dainty ribbon, lifting the lid of the box to reveal what lay beneath.

_Oh Gods, Camilla!_


	7. Alliances Part 2

The deep violet of night washed over the vast mountains surrounding the quiet kingdom of Mithia. The entire kingdom was illuminated with soft lanterns shimmering throughout the city. The castle was clamoring with the din of esteemed Mithial nobles, mingling and loitering about the courtyard and the main hall, eagerly awaiting the presentation of the Nohrian princesses. Amidst the gossiping aristocrats, diligent attendants served delicate pastries and fragrant berry tea. Charming melodies filled the night sky as a small Mithial orchestra performed with skillful fingers.

The Nohrian retainers peppered the scene, keeping a watchful eye out for any potential foul play. While most of the nobles accepted the alliance with open arms, seeing the powerful symbiotic relationship that could blossom from this union, several Mithial influencers made it very clear they wanted nothing to do with Nohr and its everlasting squabble with Hoshido. Flora and Gunter stood on either side of the grand stairwell from which the princesses would descend when they finally made their entrance. They stood proud as magnificent beacons, shining in their formal attire, the very epitome of Nohrian excellence.

The haze of noise that filled the atmosphere dissolved at the sight of the Prince of Mithia descending the long stairwell. Truly a vision in his deep navy doublet embellished with the finest silver. His thick, luxurious hair was swept back beneath a thin, regal crown.

“Dear friends and distinguished guests,” The prince spoke with a winning smile, the glistening gauntlets on his hands outstretched in a benevolent welcome, “I am truly overjoyed to have all of you here tonight as we write history together. As you may know, Xander, the Crown Prince of Nohr and I have officially established an exciting alliance between Nohr and Mithia.” The prince continued his descent until he was at the center of the ballroom. “Tonight, we are not only graced with the lovely Princess Camilla and sweet Princess Elise, but illusive Princess Corrin herself. Lady Corrin comes as a representation of our new partnership” Small excited whispers bounced about the crowd in anticipation for the reception of the unknown Princess. Her first formal appearance beyond the confines of Nohr.

“I would like to take a moment to thank our royal attendants, without their hard work, this lovely feast simply could not be.” He gestured to Tobias and the line of Mithial servants who bowed with rosy cheeks in response to his gratitude. Effie raised a goblet in agreement, mouth full of food, her other hand holding a silver platter filled to the brim with various entrees.

“Now, you haven’t congregated here to listen to me ramble on,” The prince was met with the soft laughter of his people, “I am so very privileged to introduce to you, the ethereal Nohrian Princesses.”

The crowd hushed as the orchestra reduced to a romantic melody in minor; a lovely duet of piano and cello. Descending from the stairwell first was Elise, her voluminous blonde hair woven back with ribbon into a wreath of braids. Like a charming porcelain doll, the ruffles of her black Norhian ball gown swaying as she bounded down the stairs with perhaps a little more excitement than what was proper. Elise immediately won the crowd over with her endearing nature as she gleefully met the prince that bowed before her. With a sweet curtsy, she stood beside him and turned to watch Camilla make her way down to the ballroom.

She was a true beauty in her enchanting trumpet gown. Her luxurious lavender hair was braided off to the side, cascading down her shoulder and over the sweetheart cut of her snug gown. Much like Elise, her gown was also an ode to Nohr, a shadowy black with subtle sparkling gold details. To absolutely no one’s surprise there wasn’t a single set of eyes in the attendance that didn’t admire the voluptuous eldest Princess. She moved intentionally with her bare, regal shoulders held high and slowly sauntered over to be greeted by the handsome prince and join her younger sister. There was a complete stillness in the air as the final Princess appeared from behind the Mythril pillars at the top of the marble stairwell.

Corrin was extraordinarily nervous, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. She moved timidly, feeling vulnerable in the eyes of so many noble strangers. As she apprehensively made herself visible, she met the warm, admiring eyes of Flora. The gaze of her dearly beloved maid comforted the Princess. Flora beamed with pride, tears bubbling in the corners of her eyes as she held a hand to her lips. Noting Flora’s powerful reaction, the Veteran Knight who stood parallel to her turned to see for himself. His heart seized in his chest, his lungs unable to fill with air.

Princess Corrin descended the stairs, encased in the light of chandeliers that enveloped her like a halo. Her short raven hair was swept back and pinned in place by a single Mithial Poppy. Her dress moved like the darkest night sky, shining stars of golden embellishments twinkled in the trail that shadowed her. A form fitting shoulder-less bodice with an open back lay beneath a sheer high-neck overlay that modestly covered her chest and extended out into sleeves upon her soft, fair arms. Only now did it dawn on Gunter that in all of his years in service to the woman, he had never seen her properly outfitted as the Princess she truly was. His heart could barely endure it.

The moment their eyes met, time came to a halt, the somber song of the cello melted to silence and the crowds of people faded away into oblivion. It was just the two of them. The Princess and her dashing Knight. He could see his infatuation reflecting in her eyes as she admired him for a precious moment. She felt as though she could stare at him for an eternity. She reluctantly pried her eyes away before her gaze upon her handsome Knight became perceptibly inappropriate to the crowd before them. Instead, with a false smile, her eyes fell to the Mithial prince, whom to her… sorely paled in comparison.

“My eyes are truly privileged to gaze upon such a vision.” Prince Giovanni smiled, respectfully bowing to Princess Corrin.

“You flatter me, Lord Giovanni.” Corrin smiled mirroring his polite gesture.

“May I have the honor?” He lifted his open palm to her, an invitation to initiate the ball. With pins and needles in her stomach, she promptly accepted; lest she hesitate and cause a spectacle. The moment their hands connected the union of the Nohrian-Mithial alliance was publicly solidified. The Mithial Prince drew Corrin close, driving a dagger into the center of Gunter’s chest.

The Knight was suffering, standing stationary at the base of the stairwell forced to watch as Prince Giovanni’s hand fell to the small of Corrin’s exposed back. Gunter maintained his stern stoicism, but beneath his rough exterior, he ached. He tried to soothe himself through rationalization; this was simply political, and even if it were not, Corrin is a woman - not his possession. Yet, no amount of logic, no matter how much he told himself he had no right to feel envious… _He still did._ He had never been a particularly jealous man - but perhaps that was only because for too long he had nothing of value to be taken away from him.

Flora watched Gunter with sympathy. She too, was greatly uncomfortable watching her dear Corrin slowly sway in circles around the ballroom. Anyone who truly knew Corrin could see how artificial this display was. Flora knew the Princess to be altruistic and courageous, gentle and ferocious, an incredible woman, a leader, a friend. This bizarre union, over which noble onlookers swooned, was... fake. It wasn’t who Corrin truly was. Yes, the Princess was a marvel, but she gracefully moved with concealed anxiety. She was scared and uncomfortable, yet she remained composed. Flora wanted nothing more to dash over to her rescue and swat the Prince away.

Corrin moved seamlessly over the shining ocean of the mythril ballroom floor. She allowed herself to breath and relax as Giovanni gently lead her around the extravagant room.

“You’re a natural.” the Mithial Prince spoke softly, presenting her with a brilliant smile.

“I had a lot of time to practice.” Corrin laughed.

“What crime of King Garon to keep such a treasure locked away for so long.” Corrin’s stomach churned, she had no idea how to respond, her heart began to pound in her chest. She smiled weakly in attempt to mask her panic, a silent cry for help. Surely the universe was listening, as before she could form a response, the orchestra gently subsided and the royal Prince withdrew from her with a final polite bow. With the soft curtsy she gave in response, the first dance was complete and the ball was initiated. Mithial nobles crossed the threshold onto the ballroom floor and moved together gracefully in celebration of the newly forged alliance.

The veteran Knight watched the Princess as she politely entertained the snobbish nobles that violated her with their prying eyes. Like Flora, he could see so clearly how unnatural this was for Corrin. He knew she was uncomfortable and there was absolutely nothing he could do to relieve her. Gunter squirmed in his skin, suffocating in his helplessness. He observed the scene carefully, eagerly awaiting an opportunity to flee without notice. The moment the opportunity presented itself, he eagerly took advantage of it and excused himself to an off-branching corridor.

Princess Corrin may have been deep in frivolous conversation with several nobles, but she sensed the moment her Knight departed from the ballroom. She could feel the vacancy he left in the room even before she glanced over to the lonely stairwell where he once stood. A lump formed in her throat; she wanted to chase after him but she couldn’t break free from the chains of her social obligation.

Murmurs of admiration sprouted about the room as Princess Camilla swayed onto the ballroom floor hand in hand with Prince Giovanni. The contrast between her performance and that of Corrin’s was uncanny. The eldest princess moved with confidence and unmatched grace. A genuine display of Nohrian royalty that only stoked the fire of Corrin’s feelings of fraudulence. All eyes were on the curvaceous Princess, granting Corrin a moment to catch her breath.

“Are you enjoying yourself, my Lady?” A kind voice quietly chirped, that of the handsome young butler, Tobias.

“Of course.” Corrin tried her very best to sound convincing, but Tobias knew better.

_“Truly?_ It is entirely acceptable to feel a little overwhelmed, Princess. I do not believe a single soul in this room would blame you if you needed a moment to yourself.”

“Do you truly mean that?” she spoke quietly and with hesitation.

“Yes. I remember Prince Giovanni’s first royal engagement. His poor mother had to coax him out a nervous breakdown in from of the entire kingdom.” Tobias placed a reassuring hand upon her bare shoulder, “I will personally see to it that no one gives you any grief.” Corrin nodded politely to dismiss herself, earning an encouraging smile from the butler.

Quietly and slowly, she made her way around the mezmorized crowd and slipped into the dim corridor just beyond the grand stairwell. It was as if she passed into an entirely different world as the large ebony doors quietly closed behind her; silence and candlelight. Immaculately polished suits of armor lined the ornate walls, royal mythril armor nobly posed. Planted at the end of the corridor, stoic and still, was Gunter. With his proud, impeccable posture, he fit in well among the armored figures surrounding him.

“Sir Gunter…” The princess moved softly and intentionally towards the Veteran Knight who greeted her with a fractured smile.

“Lady Corrin…” His smile soon faded as he looked towards the dark doors from which she emerged, “You should not be here, your Majesty, surely someone will come looking for you.”

“We shouldn’t be alone together long, but the Prince’s attendant gave me time. Camilla of course is a helpful distraction, all eyes are on her.”

“Certainly not _all eyes,_ Princess.” Gunter hesitated for a brief moment before affectionately brushing back a rebellious tuft of raven hair from her cheek. “In all of my years,” his voice was hushed and tender, “never have I laid my eyes upon a more beautiful sight.”

“Gunter…” Corrin’s cheeks blossomed into a deep blush, “You made it difficult to focus on anything in there. It was painful to try and keep my eyes off of _you._ ” Gunter chuckled warmly at her flattery, his hand fell to claim hers, his thumb gently tracing circles in her palm.

“I would give _anything_ to escape all of this, to run away and be alone with you.” Corrin spoke with such conviction, catching Gunter off guard.

“Corrin…” her name escaped his lips in a gentle whisper.

“I mean that. _Every word._ ”

The bright laughter of Elise could be heard emanating from beyond the doors, reminding the two of the rambunctious, demanding world that lay beyond. Gunter sighed, and raised Corrin’s hand to meet his lips. It was a delightful fantasy to entertain, running away to some far off place together; away from Mithia, away from Nohr, away from all of the chaos. Yet, they knew the weight of the burden on their shoulders, they simply could not defect from a country that truly needed them.

“We will get through this night,” he reassured her, fingers tenderly interlocked they made their way towards the door, _“together.”_ Corrin pushed up onto her toes to press a gentle kiss to Gunter’s cheek. They lingered, sharing a mutual smile before releasing their hands from one another and returning to the ballroom.

In the heart of the dance floor, Elise was twirling in circles with her charming, if a little clumsy, retainer, Arthur. There was a light, cheerful air about the room as the man beamed with laughter. Weaving about the dancing aristocrats was another unlikely pair, Camilla spun around the room with a very unamused, disgruntled Beruka pressed into her bust. At the sight of this display, without hesitation Corrin clasped her hand around Gunter’s wrist. _Oh no,_ a pang of fear hit the Knight’s stomach as he felt a tug at his arm. He shot Corrin anxious glance, shaking his head in protest, but it only encouraged the grinning Princess to grasp onto the Veteran with both hands and pull him out onto the ballroom floor. He tried so hard to collect himself, with his poor heart pounding in his chest; but when he felt Corrin’s gentle, reassuring hand upon his shoulder, he felt grounded. From beneath her hand, a warmth spread from his shoulder, across his chest and stilled his anxious heart.

Under the curious eyes of the crowd surrounding them, he was very careful about the placement of his hands, very conscious of maintaining an appropriate distance between the two. It didn’t take long for Corrin’s contagious smile to spread to the Knight’s lips. His confidence returned to him as his strong arms lead the Princess in seamless turns and steps. Corrin found herself impressed by the Kight’s unexpected grace. There was something so indulgent about being so close to one another, to be _touching_ one another so openly. Amidst her sisters, the pair didn’t raise a single eyebrow. No, it was just a charming princess and her stoic, noble retainer.

“Every man in this room wishes he were me right now, you know that?.” Gunter whispered into Corrin’s ear.

“Whatever for?” Corrin teased, “Your charm? Your dashing good looks?” She earned a smooth chuckle from the Knight.

“I am so… _happy_.” Gunter struggled to find words that could properly describe the tremendous warmth that enveloped his heart. “Thank you, Corrin.”

The Princess gazed into his eyes, her hands grasping onto him a little tighter. She drew just a little closer to him as they swayed; harmless, as they were hidden amidst the other pairs. For just a moment, they felt alone together. Moving in time with the romantic cello, Gunter felt young again, invigorated. He was no longer a war-hardened soldier, a stern Knight Commander, he was simply a man, dancing with a woman. He wasn’t prepared for the moment to pass, as the orchestra’s ballad slowed to an end. He didn’t want to let go, he wanted to live in this moment. Corrin released herself with a gentle smile and reluctantly withdrew from him, taking his breath with her as she retreated.

“Sir Gunter!! Dance with me next!!” Elise grasped onto the Knight, shocking him out of his daydream. He shot a frightened look to Corrin as silent cry for help. Corrin dismissed him with a smile, watching with amusement as Elise excitedly dragged him away. Corrin chuckled and stepped away from the dancing pairs before she too was claimed by another partner.

She made her was over to the impressive, elaborate banquet spread for a glass of wine. Nodding happily to Effie who enthusiastically filled up a third or fourth plate. With a silver goblet of red wine in her palm, Corrin made her way to a balcony overlooking the ethereal castle courtyard. Unsurprisingly, it wasn’t long before someone approached her, this time a young Mithial maid with whom Corrin hadn’t previously spoken with.

“My Lady.” She bowed her head respectfully as she extended a small envelope with the same wax stamp that imprinted Corrin’s invitation letter. “From Prince Giovanni.”

“Thank you.” Corrin accepted the envelope and examined it in her hand, she looked up to inquire about its contents, but the maid had vanished.

With care, Corrin slipped her thumb beneath the seal of wax, allowing the letter gently unfold. It wasn’t a particularly long letter, but as Corrin’s eyes scanned over the delicate calligraphy, her face grew pale and a knot twisted in her stomach. With those few words, the goblet fell from Corrin’s hand with a crash, spraying red wine across balcony floor.

_No._


	8. Alliances Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At long last, the 3-part chapter of self-indulgent, plot-irrelevant headcanon comes to a close. I breath of fresh air before we start diving into the darker side of this Fanfiction. This took me so long to write due to class and work - but it’s such a good stress reliever for me to just sit down and wrote about my precious Nohrian beans.
> 
> *Contains suggestive content, but not very explicit; angst
> 
> As always, I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Much Love

It felt good to see Gunter happy; relaxed at last, dancing with Elise. Genuine joy painted on his face. _That smile._ Absolutely nothing could compare. Corrin knew that smile intimately. She had memorized it; the light that sparkled in his eyes and the creases that formed at the corners of his mouth. That was the precious, infrequent smile of a man that had lost so much. A man who had given so much of himself to a cruel and unfeeling world; a soldier who provided altruistic, unreciprocated dedication to a tyrannical King that offered him nothing but ruin in return. That beautiful smile was a sacred treasure, and every rare moment she witnessed it, Corrin’s heart melted. She stood, in that dark doorway, alone; her shoulders slumped as the thin paper of the letter trembled in her hand. She fantasized of frantically dashing out to her valiant Knight and forcing the letter into his possession. Surely he would scoop her up into his protective arms and carry her away from all of this nonsense… or at the very least, perhaps he could help her talk through her options, share some of his boundless wisdom and formulate a plan to proceed. She knew better. There was no clean way out of this.

Outside of these castle walls, on the battlefield, Knight Commander Corrin and her loyal Sir Gunter fearlessly shielded one another. One never drifting far from the other, defending each other’s flank with sharp weapons and sharper perception. Daft was any foe that attempted to raise arms against the duo, for surely the fool would be struck down before they even had time to regret their decision. They were a marvel as they fought as one, working together as a ferocious, well oiled machine that firmly carved out a path to victory for the units that followed.

Yet, this wasn’t combat. In a way this ballroom was a battlefield of its own, but there were no blades, no armor or bloodshed; instead each carefully selected word was a weapon. Every gesture, every interaction were clearly manipulative tactics set into play by cunning aristocrats vying for their own personal agendas. Amidst this political warfare, the Princess and the Knight were two soldiers fighting for resources, defending the honor of Nohr. Their defenses were ineffective, and they had failed to hold the line. Only now did Corrin understand this, as the parchment in her palm crumpled into her fist. The bliss of ignorance washed from her with a little more than two dozen words.

_My Dear Lady Corrin,_  
_To ensure the Nohrian-Mithial alliance is honored and paid in full, see to it that you make your ways to my quarters tonight._  
_I wait with bated breath._  
_Prince Giovanni_

Corrin was outplayed and outmatched. How could she not have seen it? How could she be so naive as to come to this kingdom without a single question or suspicion? Corrin’s heart churned in the sour pit of her stomach as she watched Gunter. She ached to tell him her fears, but what could he do? If she denied the Prince his request and broke the alliance, not only would the Nohrian army be out on vital resources, but there would be dire consequences awaiting them in Nohr. Garon’s anger would doubtlessly extend as far as invading Mithia and dragging the small kingdom into the Hoshidan conflict. And what of her siblings? Camilla’s gift seemed sickeningly appropriate now, was her elder sister expecting this to happen? Was this typical of Nobles?

Corrin felt it rather selfish of her to feel so conflicted over the situation when she knew all too well the tremendous sacrifices others had made before her. She was being asked to accompany a handsome young prince back to his private chambers, something many wouldn’t even consider a sacrifice. Yet, when she pictured laying with Prince Giovanni there was no lust or desire, only nausea and anxiety. She inhaled deeply, she wouldn’t tell Gunter, at least not tonight. He would have to know eventually, surely, but Corrin would prefer to save him the suffering of knowing as it happened. It would torture him to know of the predicament while being unable to stop or prevent it from happening. Would he be angry with her? Would he understand? Would he forgive her?

There was a broad pain in Corrin’s chest, she never dreamed of being in this position and the feelings in her heart were far more powerful than she ever could have anticipated. She truly enjoyed intimacy with Gunter, she craved and savored it. She didn’t know how to put her feelings for Gunter into words, but she certainly did not want anything to do with anyone else. As if he could feel her staring, Gunter scanned the crowd as he moved across the ballroom and his smile widened when his eyes met Corrin’s. His gaze bypassed all of her defenses and cut right into her core.

 _No._ She collected her composure and strength. Perhaps she could convince the Prince to accept something else, bargaining with treasure or trading rights. Perhaps a few units would enjoy getting away from the Nohrian war to be stationed here as support to Mithia? She swallowed the lump in her throat, self-conscious that she was overreacting.

The night rolled on and looking over the slowly decreasing crowd in the ballroom, Prince Giovanni was nowhere to be seen. She could feel the burning eyes of the Mithial attendants all around her, their gaze becoming significantly less benevolent in the lens of paranoia that tinged Corrin’s perception. Perhaps it wasn’t wise to keep the Prince waiting for too long. The attendants appeared very aware of the situation as they subtly, quietly gestured her away. She looked mournfully to her handsome Knight one final time as he came to the end of a dance with Lady Camilla. She retreated back from the chandelier light and into the darkness before he could notice. Her eyes began to sting, but she dug her nails into the soft skin of her palms to center herself. She tore her gaze from him and moved away, deeper into the foreign castle.

_Forgive me Gunter, whatever happens, please forgive me._

From the far end of the ballroom, silently observing the night progress, was Flora. She grimaced as Corrin vanished into the night, a knot formed in her stomach and rocks in her heart. She was well versed in the scheming, self-serving games of aristocrats and it wasn’t too difficult to decipher what was unfolding before her eyes. It appeared she was not alone as her ears filled with muffled laughter and ill gossip of Mithial nobles that noticed the young princess depart.

_“Prince Giovanni certainly isn’t wasting any time breaking that Nohrian Princess in.”_ She heard one noble sneer, _“Oh, I bet he’ll give her a good and proper induction.”_ chirped another. In a huff Flora quickly made her way over to Gunter as he politely bowed to Camilla.

“You are just full of surprises, Sir Gunter!” Camilla smiled, “I had no idea you could dance so well!”

“You are too kind, Lady Camilla.” The Knight smiled, turning to greet Flora as she quickly approached. Camilla excused herself to mingle with some of the remaining nobles.

“Sir Gunter, we’ll be departing quite early tomorrow morning, I don’t believe you’ve been shown the lovely quarters the Mithial attendants prepared for each of us.” Flora spoke softly, but Gunter knew all too well this sudden suggestion meant something was wrong. His eyes searched the room, aching for just a glance of the dark haired princess, she was nowhere to be found.

“Flora, where… where is Corrin?” The words quietly fell from the Knight’s mouth, his fragile tone dug like a sharp dagger into Flora’s heart.

“Sir Gunter…” Flora nervously glanced about the aristocrats, desperate to keep the Knight away from the degrading comments that peppered the room. “Come with me.”

“Flora…” Gunter shook his head, ears ringing, how could he be so negligent? How could her departure pass his notice? He had let Corrin down, failed her in his role as a retainer.

 _“Please…”_ Tears began to swell in the corners of Flora's eyes, “There’s nothing we can do. Don’t make this harder than it already is.” Gunter didn’t speak but struggled to watch the gentle maid hold back her tears. She was right, and he knew it. He swallowed hard, inhaled deep, and nodded. Together, they retreated from the dwindling ballroom to the servants quarters. They said nothing the entire walk to Gunter’s distant room, and when they arrived, Flora only shared a brief, concerned look before walking away and leaving the Knight alone with his thoughts.

 

Corrin’s heart throbbed in her chest as she followed a narrow spiral staircase to a candlelit corridor with only a single large, ornate door awaiting her at the other end. She took a few steps forward, her eyes cast down as she nervously fidgeted with her hands. _His smile,_ she told herself, _just remember his smile._ She could see Gunter’s gentle smirk in her mind so vividly; proudly beaming at her from across the courtyard of Krakenberg as her training improved, easing her from her uncertainty each time they stepped onto the battlefield together, soothing her as they shared secrets entangled in a sea of blankets while he ran his finger through her hair. She drew strength from these memories that she kept sealed in the safety of her mind, her ammunition to call upon in times of fear and doubt. She needed them now more than ever.

Centering herself, Corrin mustered all of her courage and opened the door to Giovanni’s bedroom. The beautiful room crackled with firelight, a pleasant aroma of burning wood and incense filled the air. Giovanni’s quarters were spacious, a high domed ceiling decorated with elaborate murals, the walls lined with full shelves packed with texts, trinkets, and relics of all sorts. Large, open arches to the outside world overlooked the shimmering mountains that surrounded Mythia. Seated at the base of one of these windows, in his evening wear with a long silver pipe between his full lips, was the handsome young Prince peering over a stack of paperwork with a large feathered quill in hand. His shining honey colored eyes narrowed over the peaks of his cheeks in a pleasant smile as he luxuriously exhaled fragrant smoke.

“Ah, Lady Corrin. I see you received my letter.” He set down his quill and pipe and rose to his feet to meet her. He examined the the timid look on her face and grimaced, “Is something the matter, my Dear?” He raised a hand to claim her chin and draw her gaze to his own.

“I…” Corrin was unsure of herself, fearful of how the Prince would digest her words. “Prince Giovanni, you are truly an incredibly impressive man, but I… I cannot…”

“You cannot what, my love?”

“I cannot… I cannot bring myself to lie with you.” She watched the Prince’s face, expecting the worst. Stepping back and drawing a hand to his mouth, Giovanni’s eyes narrowed and his expression changed.

“Pardon me, Princess…” The Prince pressed his knuckles beneath his chin as a smile crept across his face, “What in the world are you talking about?”

“I…” Corrin was confused, “I thought you summoned here… to lie with you?”

Giovanni restrained himself in the face of Corrin’s serious tone but it was only a matter seconds before he broke into a charming, powerful bout of laughter.

“I do not understand…?” Corrin hugged her arms around herself in confusion.

“Sweet Corrin, you can relax.” Giovanni clasped his large hands benevolently around her shoulders. “My dear, I only summoned you here to paint an image for my people. Oh my, I am so sorry for worrying you like this.”

“An image…?”

“My darling, how could I ask you to lie with me when you are already involved with that Knight of yours?”

Corrin face burned red; she nervously picked at her fingers as she stuttered, “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.” What!? Gunter and Corrin had been so careful not to give anyone the slightest hint of their affair. Her unconvincing denial only earned more sweet laughter from the charming Prince.

“Your secret is safe with me, dear girl, I assure you.”

Corrin struggled to look the Prince in the eyes, she cleared her throat nervously as anxious beads of sweat formed at her temples. “How… How did…” She couldn’t seem to form words without cracking.

“How did I know?” The Prince watched her with a confident smile, “Well…”

“It takes one to know one.” A third voice chimed in, emerging from a small study attached to the bedroom was Tobias. The fair haired butler flashed a bright smile to Corrin as he closed in on Prince Giovanni and latched onto his arm. The Prince offered his butler a quick affectionate kiss to the head. Quite a few things made more sense now.

“No one else may take notice, but the coded language you share with your Knight is one that Tobias and I have been speaking for years.” Giovanni explained, “Originally I had no intention of inviting you here, there truly was no ulterior motive to this Ball, Mithia sincerely seeks an Alliance with Nohr.”

“But after seeing you and Sir Gunter, I simply could not ignore the mutually beneficial opportunity that presented itself.” Tobias explained, “Your coming here has provided an alibi for all of us. An opportunity to dismiss some of the rumors that have spread about Prince Giovanni.”

“You see, Corrin, like you, this love we share is dangerous and riddled with threats of consequence. Especially now that my siblings have married, there is a tremendous amount of pressure on me to do the same.” Giovanni lifted his arm to tenderly drape around Tobias, “If the nobles spread gossip of a scandalous revenedouz between you and I… It will buy me time.”

“Time…?” This was all so much for Corrin to absorb at once, was this real or was she dreaming? Confusion of the situation and the embarrassment of her previous assumption hit her like a wall of brick.

“My father has begun to… _suspect_ a few things. While he and my brothers are away on a voyage west, he left me in charge of this alliance feast, undoubtedly he has the castle crawling with eyes. Your coming here will surely give them something to chew on, a Princess unknown to the world, an opportunity for me to appear interested in your hand in marriage.”

“Will they not eventually expect us to wed?” Corrin inquired cautiously.

“Not while you are actively at war.” Tobias leaned into his prince, “And… We will have eloped together far before this war with Hoshido ends.”

Corrin was flabbergasted and relieved, as if hundreds of pounds had been lifted from her shoulders. “I am so, terribly embarrassed for assuming that…”

“Do not dare apologize, that just means we were that much more convincing.”

“This works in your favor as well, Dear Corrin. If anything, it will further draw the public’s eye far from the possibility of your involvement with Sir Gunter.”

“Now,” Tobias beckoned the two to join him at a table prepped with a delightful spread of tea and treats. “Let us share a cup of tea to pass some time. We wouldn’t want you to depart prematurely and put our dear Prince’s vigor up for speculation.”

Giovanni rolled his eyes and offered Corrin a lovely black robe to drape around her bare shoulders, “Come, you can tell us all about just what makes this cranky old Knight of yours so wonderful.”

 

Gunter tried fruitlessly to keep himself from getting worked up, pacing his quaint room to no avail. He had picked apart the books that filled one of the fine ornate bookcases in the corner of the room, each distracting him for a page or two before he cast them aside in distress. Rubbing his hand across his mouth in frustration for the dozenth time, he finally forced himself to sit. Sleep was out of this question, not when hundreds of intrusive thoughts devoured his mind like a lion on its prey. He sat upon the cushions of the plush indigo chaise lounge planted in the center of his room, he stared into the fire of the small hearth that gently illuminated the room before casting his head down into his hands. He rubbed his scalp in attempt to soothe himself, but the uncertainty of Corrin’s whereabouts and wellbeing made it impossible for him to feel comfortable in his skin.

He felt a gentle burst of cool night air sweep across the room as the door parallel to him opened. Disheartened, the Knight didn’t even look up.

“Flora, I know you mean well, but I need to be alone right now.” He waited for a response, but was met with no words, only the firm metallic click of the door locking followed by soft footsteps. When he lifted his weary head, he was met with a familiar figure standing between his knees. Soft hands reached to smooth his tense shoulders down.

“ _Oh Gods, Corrin,_ I cannot believe it’s you.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in, his face pressing into her cloaked torso just below her bust. Corrin smiled and ran her fingers affectionately through his hair.

“I missed you too…” She cooed softly as he released his hold and looked up at her with concern.

“Are you alright, were you hurt? Where did you go? What did the Princ-” Gunter’s flood of questions were hushed with a gentle kiss.

“I will explain everything, but for now just know that your lips are the only ones I will be kissing tonight.” She leaned down to plant a firm, slow kiss against his mouth.

“But Corrin… What about-” Gunter was cut off by his Princess allowing the thick velvet cloak to luxuriously slip off of her body. Having left her gown in Giovanni’s quarters as “evidence” per Tobias’ suggestion, all that lay beneath the hefty cloak was the delicate lace and ribbon of the lingerie set gifted to her by her older sister. Gunter had turned an adorable shade of red, much to Corrin’s amusement. She lowered herself to straddle him picking at the buttons of his evening attire as she bit her lip. Gunter wasn’t frozen in awe for too much longer as Corrin led his hands up the soft, sheer seams of her corset, clasping them firmly around the soft peaks of her breasts. She smiled, gently nipping at his jawline as she rubbed herself against the firm evidence of Gunter’s arousal growing between her thighs.

It may have taken quite some time, for obvious reasons, but the two eventually found their way beneath the warm blankets of the bed tucked away in the corner of the room. They hadn’t had the opportunity to spend an entire night together before this moment, and so they were sure to savor it. They exchanged countless whispers and kisses and laughed about the absurdity of the day’s events together before floating off into a blissful slumber. The two held onto one another tightly, skin to skin, until the early morning where Corrin would eventually leave before the rest of their Nohrian company woke.

“It was such a pleasure to have you all here.” Giovanni smiled warmly as the Nohrians prepared for departure just outside the main gate of the Mithial castle.

“The pleasure was ours!” Camilla happily chirped before she turned to accept Sir Gunter’s hand in assistance to ascend up into the carriage.

“I truly wish you well,” Corrin lingered before the exotic Prince who claimed her hand and planted a kiss upon it. “Thank you, Giovanni, for everything.” The princess’ voice was hushed and serious.

“No, thank you, Corrin. I hope we meet again one day, when all of this chaos blows over.” The prince walked beside her, and in a final display of courtesy, he personally assisted in providing his hand to help her into the carriage. Gunter nodded respectfully to the Prince with a grateful smirk, which earned a quick wink from Giovanni.

“You will always have an ally in Mithia.” The Prince called out to them as they departed, his loyal manservant just feet away from him with a blissful smile painted across his lips.

“Until next time!” Corrin waved as the caravan valiantly moved on. 

“That as so much fun…” Elise yawned leaning into Camilla’s shoulder, drifting off nearly as quickly as they departed.

“So!” Camilla grinned, clasping her hands together in glee, “My little gift? Did you enjoy it?”

Corrin laughed softly, biting her lip before she softly responded. “More than you know, Camilla.” The dark haired princess watched the scenery pass her by outside of the carriage window with a satisfied smile, her back pressed to the thin wall of the carriage. Directly against the other side of that wall, sitting at the reigns was her dear Sir Gunter who chuckled knowingly to himself at the sound of Camilla’s inquiry, earning a swat to the shoulder from Flora.

_More than you know._


End file.
